


The Waiting Game

by Ann84



Category: The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, First Time, M/M, Only in the first chapter, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2019-09-05 12:56:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann84/pseuds/Ann84
Summary: Just a very small touch of Romeo and Juliet to this story. Barry Allen and Leonard Snart, sons of rival mob bosses first meet in a bar without realizing who the other is.Like my other stories, I have no idea where this one will take me. I'm just along for the ride.Mind the tags, there IS underage sex (Barry is 17) but it will only be in the first chapter.





	1. Chaper 1

**Author's Note:**

> As I said in the summary, I have no idea where this one will take me. There IS underage sex here in the first chapter (Barry is 17). 
> 
> Also, like my other story and any future stories, I don't know when an unpdate will come. I don't get the chance to sit down and write very often and to be honest it's really going to depend on my mood as to which one I write/update. Just going with the flow here. 
> 
> Totally un-beta'd.

The music pulsated around him, through him, the vibrations pounding his body in time with the loud bass, blanking his mind and for the first time in a very long time, nothing else mattered. The dim lighting of the club enveloped him in reds, greens, and blues. His hips swayed and he let his eyes close, blocking out the packed dance floor where countless sweating bodies danced around him, brushed against him, causing an inferno that surrounded him. 

God, he had needed this. He needed to let everything just melt away for one night before he had to wake up and go back to his reality. 

Barry felt free. More than free. He felt untouchable, invisible, happy that right now he was simply Barry Allen, a regular college kid out for the semester with a fake ID in his pocket and too much alcohol in his veins. At that moment, he was no longer Barry Allen, adopted son of Joe West, head of the West Family Crime Syndicate, he didn’t have a father murdered in prison while serving time for a crime he didn’t commit (though there were plenty he _had_ committed), and he certainly wasn’t the freak that had been moved to college after he tested out of his high school exams in his freshman year.

Caitlyn had been so very right when she insisted that he and Cisco join her for a night out because they all needed to let loose, celebrate a break from endless assignments and sleepless nights and forget that they were the misfits, the outcasts. Barry, because he was a senior like them though years younger and they, because they were the only two people that had treated him like he wasn’t a freak, because they had welcomed him into their little circle, treated him like he belonged from day one and stood up for him when no one else would. 

He felt a nudge at his elbow and turned to see Cisco grinning and holding up yet another shot glass, one of too many so far that night. 

“Come on, Caitlyn set us up a round at the table.” Cisco had to yell over the pounding music and Barry returned his grin. 

He followed his friend as he wound his way out of the crowd of people on the dance floor and to the table that their friend sat waiting at. 

Caitlin pushed a shot glass toward Barry as they approached and held up her own, giving them a dopey smile, eyes bright from the many shots she’d already ingested. 

“To making it through another semester alive.” 

Barry laughed and raised his glass, clinking it with hers as Cisco did the same. “To no assignments for six whole weeks!”

The liquid burned a hot path down his throat all the way to his stomach and he shuddered at the uncomfortable heat as it landed and spread through his belly. 

He shook his head. “No more shots for me guys. That one was harsh.”

Caitlin laughed while Cisco tossed an arm around his neck. “Lightweight!” he accused teasingly. 

Barry smiled. “Really, I gotta at least be able to _pretend_ that I’m not hungover tomorrow when I see Joe.”

“You honestly think he’s not going to know Barry?” Caitlin asked with her thin brows raised.

“He’s totally going to know,” Cisco added, nodding.

Laughter bubbled. “Yeah, probably but he doesn’t have to know to what extent.” He pulled away from Cisco and jerked his head toward the bar. “I’m gonna go get something lighter to drink. You guys want anything?”

Both declined but as he turned Caitlin stopped him. “Get a Mojito. The mint will help settle your stomach.” 

He smiled gratefully and she gave him a knowing wink. 

Barry fought his way through the crowd to the less packed side of the room, moving between the pool tables and narrowly avoiding cue sticks shooting out as people bent to take shots. 

He slid into a chair at the bar near the end and away from the people congregating at the middle and signaled for the bartender.

“Can I get a Mojito, please?” he asked once the man stood in front of him.

Barry jumped as a heavy arm landed over his shoulders and a hand slapped down in front of him with a bill underneath. Before he could turn a cool voice spoke from behind him. 

“This one is on me.” It was directed to the bartender. Barry turned to find himself locking with the clearest blue eyes he’d ever seen, like icy pools that glittered with a warmth that contradicted the tickling chill they sent down Barry’s spine. 

The man gave him an appraising look and the corner of his mouth turned up before he shifted to look at the bartender again. “A whisky as well. Neat.”

Barry didn’t turn to see the bartender’s reaction but he assumed the drinks were being made. His nostrils flared as he took in the spikey scent of the man’s cologne as it drifted around him. The man looked back to him with raised brows. 

“You know, it’s customary to offer the person buying you a drink a seat. Or at least say thank you.” His voice was rough but smooth, his words spoken with an almost suave drawl and Barry blinked at them, dragging his eyes away from the others. 

“Oh! Yeah-sorry. Have a seat! And thank you.” He gestured to the seat next to him, realizing when he turned that the man still hadn’t removed his arm from over his shoulder. 

An amused smirk quirked at his lips and he inclined his head slightly. “Why, thank you. I’d love to.” It was said in a playfully sarcastic manner making Barry’s already booze-pink cheeks heat further. He drew back and slid onto the stool next to Barry’s. 

Barry turned briefly to find his friends at their table across the room. They looked back at him, Caitlyn with a double thumbs up, both grinning from ear to ear, before breaking out in giggles that were too far away to hear. Barry felt his face redden again and he cleared his throat. 

The man seated next to him looked over his shoulder at them before looking back to Barry, the amusement still etched into his features. “You don’t look old enough to be here kid.” He pointed to Cisco and Caitlyn. “They do, barely, but not you.”

It was on the tip of Barry’s alcohol loose tongue to say _I’m not_ but he stopped himself in time, instead replying with, “I’m in college. Pretty sure I’m old enough.”

The man’s brows rose, his perceptive blue eyes taking in his features briefly, the gleam in them told Barry he was not at all fooled. “You can be in college and still be under twenty-one.”

Barry tilted his chin at the statement, liquid courage pushing him to step up to the challenge even though he got the feeling this man would know a lie if he heard one. “I’m a senior.”

“Really? What are you going for?”

The silky tone and sharp gaze had him feeling like a sample under a microscope. He cleared his throat and tried to push down the fuzz surrounding his brain. “Criminal law. With a minor in Social Psychology.”

The man gave a barking laugh, clearly finding humor in Barry’s statement. 

“What’s funny?”

The bartender set their drinks down and the still chuckling man pushed Barry’s toward him. “The irony that is life.” Before Barry could question him, he continued. “So I take it you guys are here to blow off some steam?”

Barry nodded and took a sip of his drink. “Yeah, out on break.”

He shifted in his seat to look back at his friends again. They had their heads away from him obviously in a very deep, drunken, giggly conversation. He turned back to the man sitting next to him and he felt a different kind of heat pool in his belly, one that was definitely not caused by the liquor as he took in his new drinking companion. Dark hair that curved with a widow’s peak, shorn with sparse grey highlights that had to be premature because the guy couldn’t be older than his late twenties. Cool blue eyes that seemed to look right through him as if he were transparent, a strong jaw, broad shoulders, and a cocky posture that Barry knew without a doubt wasn’t a peacocking act. This guy radiated a sureness that had Barry blushing again even though he had no reason to. His eyes flicked over the man a second time, from the calloused fingertips to the smirking lips that were slowly tilting up again.

He blinked up at the knowing raise of thin brows and cleared his throat. “So… you come here a lot?”

The man snorted into his drink that he’d raised it to take a sip. He set it back down and gave Barry a toothy smile. “Really? I give you the perfect opening in one question and all you can come up with is the old _‘Come here often?’_ line?”

Barry’s cheeks burned even hotter and he grimaced, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, I guess so. Sorry.”

A thick shoulder came up in a shrug. “No worries. We all have our moments.”

Barry wasn’t sure what to say. Keeping up a conversation had never been his forte so he just nodded and repeated, “Yeah.”

He looked down at his drink and twirled it in his hands, self-conscious under the man’s gaze. From the corner of his eye he watched him cock his head and give Barry another once over. 

“So, you got a girlfriend back at school? Boyfriend?”

It was Barry’s turn to snort because the idea of someone dating him at school was laughable to an embarrassing level. He shook his head as he took several large gulps of his drink, emptying it quickly. “No. I’m single.”

He shifted a little closer. “That’s a shame.” The man’s tone had dropped to a pitch that had Barry turning to look at him. His hazy brain struggled to understand as butterflies sprung to life inside him. “For them, I mean.” He gave Barry a wink. “Not so much for me.”

It hit him suddenly what was going on and he gaped like a fish. He shook his head in disbelief and turned bodily to face the man. “Wait, hold on. Are you… are you _flirting_ with me?”

He looked at Barry quizzically for a moment before bursting out in deep laughter. “Damn, you’re a lot more fun than I thought you’d be. Cute _and_ modest.” Still chuckling, he nodded. “Yeah, kid, I’m flirting with you.” 

Barry gaped at him, trying to find the joke. He looked back at Caitlin and Cisco but they were still in their own world. Besides, they wouldn’t have played this kind of trick on him, they weren’t that cruel.

He shook his head again. “But why?” 

Before answering the man took a sip of his whisky and pinned him with an assessing look. 

“You’re new to this type of thing aren’t you?” Before Barry could answer he slid out of his stool and stepped into Barry’s space. “Let’s do this the straightforward way.” 

He held his hand out. “I’m Len. What’s your name?”

Barry blinked in confusion, still highly unsure what exactly was going on, trying to understand why a man like this was even giving him the time of day. Slowly, he reached out and placed his hand in the others, taking note of the callouses and dry heat that wrapped around his own slim fingers. “Barry.”

Len smiled and stepped closer still, bending slightly so Barry could feel his breath graze his heated cheek, his hand still held firmly in the larger one. “Hi Barry. You’re hot. I’m horny. Wanna fuck?”

Barry’s mouth dropped open and he gaped up at Len who’d pulled his head back just enough to look at Barry expectantly. 

Now he knew this was a prank. Someone had put him up to this because there was no way this was happening. These things didn’t happen to someone like him. Ever. 

But….

He ran his tongue over his lip, a nervous habit, and watched blue eyes drop to follow its path over his bottom lip, pupils dilated, an honest sign of arousal. There was movement against his thigh where Len was still pressed close to him and it took him a moment to realize what it was. He swallowed weakly as he felt a twitch in his own lap. 

Len’s brows rose. “Well?”

Well… _why not???_

When would he have another chance like this? There was no one his age at the university and it wasn’t like anyone there was interested in a kid like him. Weren’t you supposed to have flings and one night stands in college? Besides, this guy was hot and he doubted someone like him would ever show this kind of interest in him again. The odds were astronomical. So why the _hell_ not?

He let out a shaky breath and nodded slowly. “Ok… ok, yeah.”

Len’s answering grin was nearly predatory, filled with promises that Barry had no clue how to read. 

“Come on,” he said with a jerk of his head. 

Barry allowed himself to be pulled from the stool by the grip on his hand. Instead of releasing it, Len kept his hold and used it to guide him through the throng of people that had now become a blur to Barry. His heart beat painfully in his chest, his mind clearing for the first time as the realization of what he’d just agreed to slammed into him. 

Before he knew it Len was at the men’s bathroom and pushing him through the door. 

An arm slid around his waist from behind just as he opened his mouth to speak. “Wait. The bathroom?”

Len chuckled as he walked him toward the furthest stall. “Never fucked in a public restroom before?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the man he’d never fucked _at all_ but swallowed the words down and shook his head. “No, I haven’t.”

“First time for everything.”

Barry groaned at the irony of the statement. 

They entered the stall, Len turning them to close and latch the door. As soon as the lock clicked into place Barry was pressed into the cold steel by Len’s warm body at his back. Hot lips traced the side of his neck and he tilted it with a gasp, wanting to feel more of the firm slide against his skin because, yeah, that really was as nice as it looked in the movies. 

“I’ve wanted to do this since I first laid eyes on you tonight.” The low rumbling voice thrummed through him. There were hands on either side of his waist under his shirt, gliding up along his flesh, nails lightly scraping over his stomach and up to his chest. “Out there teasing everyone in the building with your sexy ass wiggling on the dance floor.” 

Sharp teeth latched onto his throat before sucking the flesh sharply. “Oh fuck.” It came out in a whimper and his hands balled into fists next to his head. 

The chest at his back vibrated with a groan. “You even taste as sweet as you look.” 

Len pushed his hips against him, grinding his jean covered hardness against his ass as a hand moved down to unbutton Barry’s pants, dragging the zipper down, loud in the quiet room. 

And then there was a hand around his dick that wasn’t his own and Barry’s knee’s weakened. Had it not been for the hard body pressing against him, holding him up, he would have dropped because nothing could have prepared him for the sensation of Lens rough hand caressing him with skilled, practiced strokes.

Distantly, through the pounding in his ears, he heard the jingle of a belt buckle and another zipper sliding open, the rustle of clothing, and a chill against his now bare ass before it was covered again, this time by Len’s equally bare front. 

The hard, heavy length of Lens cock fell between his cheeks and he shuddered as the man slid between the globes of his ass, grinding up each time his rough hand stroked down his member. 

A sharp slap to one cheek jerked him from the fog in his brain. He let out a pitching cry that he barely recognized as his own before the hand soothed the sting with smooth circles, raising up and repeating the process, a rhythm that sent fire straight through to Barry’s balls, drawing them up, an orgasm racing forward without warning. 

The hand around him suddenly turned to iron, his grip turning almost brutal, stopping the release in its tracks and forcing a low pained wail from his lips.

“Not yet.” The hand eased up as the need to cum retreated. “I want to feel you cum on my cock, your tight ass clenching down on it.”

And then the hand on his dick was gone and something was shoved into his fist. 

“Get yourself ready for me. I wanna watch.”

Barry panted, blinking rapidly to clear the haze, his forehead pressed against the stall door, and stared at the packet of lube, suddenly apprehensive. He was really doing this. He was in the bathroom of a bar, with a man he didn’t know, getting ready to have sex for the first time. His hands shook but he steeled himself before tearing off a corner of the packet.

It was warm between his fingers, silky and he reached behind himself as Len stepped back to give him room, the palm of his hand smoothing up and down his back. 

He circled his hole hesitantly before easing the tip of his index finger in. It was an odd feeling, he’d never done anything like this before, never even thought to do something like this. His experience only went so far as quick jerks late at night or in the shower to faceless blurred figures without any real images. He pushed his finger in further, shifting to get a better angle.

God, he hoped he was doing it right. It didn’t feel right but the man behind him groaned in appreciation as his head rested on Barry’s spine, watching as Barry pushed a second finger in next to the first. He could hear the telltale sound of flesh rubbing flesh as Len stroked himself at the sight. He winced at the sting of the stretch but kept going, urged on by Len’s moans. 

Barry heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper and then his fingers were pulled away. Before he felt ready the blunt tip of Len’s cock was suddenly there, replacing his fingers, pushing in past the first ring, too fast and too soon, making him jerk up, tensing at the jolt of pain. The hands that gripped his hips squeezed, pushing his cheeks apart. 

“Shit, don’t do that. You’re gonna make me cum like a fifteen year old virgin before I even get in.”

Barry wanted to scream out that the _seventeen_ year old virgin wasn’t going to cum at all if he kept going but the burn in his ass had his throat closing as Len pushed past the second ring, sliding home until he could feel Len’s course hair brushing against his cheeks. 

He tightened again as a reflex and whimpered at the blinding pain, gasping against the steel door he pushed his face into. 

He knew the moment Len realized it. The air seemed to be sucked from the room as the atmosphere shifted around them. The only movement was the warm puffs of air hitting the back of his neck. 

“Aw fuck, kid.” And with those words Barry knew it was over. He knew the man would pull away, pull _out_ and storm off, leaving him hard and ashamed. And yes, despite the pain he was still achingly hard, his teenage cock too excited to wilt.

But he didn’t. Instead those thick arms circled around his waist holding him firmly but gently. He shifted closer, pulled Barry to press even further into him, shushing the groan ringing from his throat. The man’s chin came to rest on his shoulder and Barry felt enveloped. 

He eased out slowly, angling his hips in a searching manner before pushing back in with a steady thrust. Barry grimaced the second time, sharp spikes of pain shooting up his spine. 

He hadn’t realized he’d whimpered until he felt a kiss to his ear and Len’s breathy voice, low and shaky. “Relax, baby. I’m gonna make it good for you. Just relax.”

Again, he pulled out and pushed in, and again, and again. Hands eased back and forth between his chest and stomach, petting him. 

Just as he was going to call it quits, just as he was about to tell him to stop, that he couldn’t do it anymore and he couldn’t relax, the cock thrusting gently inside him brushed against something that had his toes curling. He threw his head back against the man’s shoulder, white flashes sparked beneath his lids and he gasped. 

He heard the grin in Lens voice when he spoke. “There it is.” A hand slid up to pinch his nipple harshly as he slid over that spot inside him a second time. “Now we can have some fun.”

Len pulled back, his hands moved back to his hips, squeezing hard in warning. “Brace yourself.”

He pulled out slowly and Barry had just enough time to flatten his hands against the door before Len slammed back in with a force that knocked the air from his chest.

And then Barry was lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy, the obscene sound of flesh slapping flesh as Len fucked him at an almost savage pace, nails dug into his hips, scratching over his back and chest, teeth closed over his neck and shoulder. The sharp pain in his ass dampened with each driving thrust that sent lightning across his nerve endings. 

At some point Len clamped a hand over his mouth, leaning in to whisper brokenly. “Shhh, as sexy as all those sounds are, we don’t want to get caught.”

He hadn’t even been aware that he was making noise but that didn’t matter because Lens fingers were at his lips and the urge to taste them was too strong to resist. His tongue snuck out giving the hand closed over him a wet lick and Len groaned before shifting to shove two fingers in his mouth. His lips closed instinctively around them, sucking them deep. 

“Fuck, look at you, practically begging for a cock to suck.” His free hand snuck around and took hold of Barry again, swirling the wetness at the tip. 

Two strokes was all it took and Barry was coming, his whole body tensing with the force of it, unable to draw breath, and stronger than anything he’d ever experienced before. 

The hips driving into him stuttered and suddenly arms wrapped around him, one over his arms and chest, the other around his stomach, their grip like iron as he was pushed flat against the door in front of him. 

Len’s groan vibrated through him and the cock inside him gave a lurching twitch as he stilled, grinding deeply.

The body behind him eased but didn’t pull away, instead his hold loosened, fingers brushing easily over his still tingling flesh while Lens sweaty forehead rested in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily. 

They stayed like that for several moments, both letting their bodied edge down from the high. Barry felt the cock inside him begin to soften just as Len pulled back, pulling himself free slowly, causing Barry to grimace at the uncomfortable slide mixed with the thrumming ache making itself apparent in his ass.

Cool air had him shuddering as it hit his sweat dampened skin when Len retreated back. He turned his head to press his heated cheek against the cold metal, closing his eyes as he listened to Len remove the condom, tossing it into the toilet with a plop. 

Barry hummed as lips softly brushed over his shoulder and fingers traced gently over his hip, no doubt following the line of fresh bruises there. 

“That was a low move kid.”

“Sorry.” Not really. He didn’t care. At that point he couldn’t muster up even the slightest inkling of guilt as his body tingled in the afterglow of the best orgasm he’d ever experienced. “Was it that bad for you?”

Hot air hit his neck at Len’s silent, breathy laugh. “Fuck no, but my ego has taken a serious blow.”

Barry stretched as he turned, not caring that he probably looked completely wrecked and his soft dick was still on display, wet from his orgasm, modesty forgotten for the moment. 

He leaned heavily against the door and looked up at Len with hooded eyes, lethargically. “There’s no reason for it. That was great.”

Len stepped into his space, his arms folding above Barry’s head as he leaned down to brush the tip of his nose over Barry’s. “Yeah but your first time shouldn’t have been in a bathroom that smells like piss and pot, getting slammed into a stall door.”

“I’m not complaining.”

Len mimicked Barry’s earlier hum. “You should be.” He lifted his head a fraction to look at Barry. “My place is a few blocks from here. Come back with me.”

Barry hesitated. He looked back at the eyes staring down at him, no longer outlined with secretive amusement, just honest and soft, with a genuine question to them. Still…

“Come on, Barry. I’ve got a huge bed that I’m dying to see you spread out on. I’ll show you what it should have been like and you can be as loud as you want there.” Flame tinted Barry’s cheeks. “And the blushes are back again.” He pulled one arm down to run a finger over his hot cheek. “I’m gonna start calling you Scarlet.” 

Barry snorted at the name but gave Len a faltering look. “I don’t know… I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

The finger moved to his lips as Len pressed his body closer to Barry’s, his voice taking on a friendly teasing tone. “I’ll even make you breakfast in the morning. Anything you want.”

Barry’s tongue flicked at the digit tracing his lips, tasting the lingering flavor of himself and took in the man before him. Again, the question of _why not?_ popped up. He was robbed of his high school years and he didn’t want to see the same thing happen to his college years. It’s wasn’t fair that he had to miss out on all the fun just because he tested above his grade level. College wasn’t just for academic purposes. It was about parties and flings and growing and he didn’t want to give up the chance to do exactly that.

His brows rose and he looked up at Len through his lashes. “I like pancakes.”

He smirked down at Barry. “Sweet tooth?”

“Very.”

“Chocolate chip or blueberry?”

“Blueberry.”

“Deal. Blueberry pancakes and I’ll even throw in extra syrup.”

Barry laughed easily and straightened as Len pulled away. He tucked himself back into his pants watching as Len did the same and _holy shit, did he really have that thing inside him?_ No wonder it had hurt. 

He cleared his throat, looking to the side. “I’ll have to let my friends know.”

“Same.” He shifted Barry to the side and unlatched the door, opening it a fraction and scanning the room. He nodded to Barry to let him know it was clear and pushed it fully open. Barry followed him to the main door where Len turned back to him. “Meet me outside in ten?”

Barry nodded and smiled giving him a quick, “Ok,” as he slipped by the older man and back into the main area of the club. 

>>>

“Where’ve you been?”

Len walked up to the pool table where Mick was leaned over aiming the cue. He watched as his friend took a skilled shot before answering. 

“Found a cute piece of tail. I’m gonna head out for round two.”

“That good?” He asked as he walked around the table, not lifting his eyes from the remaining balls.

Len smiled. The image of Barry’s plump cheeks around Lens cock, buried deeply in an almost too tight hole made his length twitch despite coming just minutes ago. The kid wasn’t just good. He was fantastic. They way he’d eagerly pushed back to meet his thrusts, greedily sucked his fingers, moaned so perfectly that Len’s filthy mind could barely keep up. He nodded.

“Better.” He rapped his knuckles against the table. “See you tomorrow afternoon?”

Mick grunted in reply and Len looked up, searching out Barry in the crowd just in time to see two men approach the kid and his friends at their table. 

A jolt of recognition raced down his spine and he felt his lips turn into a sneer as he hissed between his teeth. Mick looked up at him at the sound then over to search out what made his partners usually cool demeanor spike. 

He grunted at the sight. “Well, they seem to be lost.” He threw down his pool stick and walked to stand beside Len. “They’re pretty far from home.”

Len eyed Eddie Thawne and Julian Albert with distaste. Mick was right. They were out of their territory and it put him on edge. What the fuck were they thinking? Coming into _Snart_ territory? They seemed to be interested in the kid who looked just as shocked as Len. The kid’s friends seemed to understand who they were however if the stiff, frightened, averted gazes were anything to go by. 

He paused watching the kid interact with the two thugs, arms gesturing, as if he were arguing with them. It was almost as if he... _knew_ them. As soon as the thought entered his brain the kid looked up at him, causing Thawne and Albert to do the same. Eddie gave him a blank stare while Julian made his distaste apparent, sneering at Len and Mick as if they were insects. Thawne leaned forward, murmuring something to the kid.

The kids face paled. The eyes that were heated with passion just minutes before flashed with a mix of emotions, fear, anger, dismay, and disbelief and it had Len narrowing his eyes. 

What the _fuck_ was going on?

In the next moment Julian had the kids arm in a tight grip and the group began moving toward the exit, the brunettes eyes still locked on his.

“Good riddance.” He heard Mick say next to him. “The brat has no business here.”

Lens head snapped around. “The kid? Who is he?”

Mick gave him an incredulous look, “You don’t recognize him?” He turned to watch the group shifting through the crowd then looked back at Len. “That’s Barry Allen, West’s kid. Adopted. I mean, he’s older now but it’s definitely him.”

Snarts head snapped up to meet Barry’s again as ice enveloped him, realizing several things at once. One, after doing some quick math and adding up what little he knew about the kid- he just fucked a seventeen year old virgin in a club bathroom. Two, this was the genius kid that West, one of the three leading mob bosses, kept safely under lock and key. And three, their father’s hated each other and interacting with someone from one of the rival families outside of scheduled or social events was a huge no-no. 

“Fuck,” he breathed causing Mick to look over to him. From the corner of his eye he watched as Mick turned back to Barry and then again to Len, understanding blooming on his features. 

He let out a gruff bark of laughter. “Oh shit, _that’s_ your cute piece of ass?”

Len didn’t bother answering as he watched the group push through the door, Barry’s eyes having never left his as it disappeared at the exit. Mick clapped a meaty hand on his shoulder. 

“Better hope the kid’s lips are tighter than his legs cause if West or your pops find out there’s gonna be problems.”

He wasn’t lying but Len felt strangely calm about the implication. The kid didn’t seem like the squealing type. If anything Len felt more disappointment that anything else. He’d been looking forward to making the kid scream tonight. Even deeper, there was a feral satisfaction in the knowledge that _he_ , Leonard Snart, had popped the cherry of Joe West’s son. 

He wasn’t worried if anyone found out. He knew how to take care of himself but still, he’d make sure to keep on his toes the next few months, just in case. 

A cue was shoved against his chest and he turned to face Micks amused expression. “Looks like you won’t be getting that round two tonight. Rack ‘em.”

Len sighed and shook his head, “Figures.”

>>>

Barry leaned against the large desk in Joes study wanting nothing more than to crawl upstairs and flop into his bed and forget this night ever happened. The drop from the euphoric high had his head pounding. 

Leonard Snart. Lewis Snarts son. How could he have been so stupid? He didn’t know much about the man, Joe had kept most of his business to himself, letting Barry, Iris, and Wally grow up in relative peace but he knew enough to know that he’d fucked up royally. There were certain area’s he knew to stay away from but he hadn’t realized he’d been in one of the Snart family’s cover bars. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. 

God, what had he done? He let Leonard Snart fuck him in a dingy bathroom. Leonard Snart took his virginity. He’d even gone so far as to agree to go back to his place after. 

Luckily, Caitlin and Cisco had kept their mouths shut so as long as Snart did the same no one would ever know it had happened. 

He jumped as the door to the study opened. Joe came to stand in front of him in his robe, disapproval etched into his face. 

Barry looked up at his adoptive father with a guilty grimace. “Hey Joe.”

The older man reached out and took hold of his chin, tilting it to study the bruised bite marks along his neck. 

He tilted his head toward the marks. “Who’s the girl?”

Barry cleared his throat, fidgeting under his father’s intense gaze. “Guy actually.” 

As soon as the words were out he wanted to kick himself. Not because he was admitting to being with a guy, he knew Joe wouldn’t care, and further more probably not surprised. It was more that it could be led back to said guy being Snart. 

Joe nodded easily. “Ok, who’s the guy then?”

He shrugged, shifting his chin out of Joe’s hold. He bit his lip, dropping his eyes to the floor. “Just a guy.” He flicked his eyes up briefly spying the raised brows staring at him expectantly. “Just a random guy.”

Joes head dropped back with an exasperated sigh. He threw his hands up. “Oh, Jesus Christ, Barry.” He stepped forward and hooked his finger in the collar of Barry’s shirt giving it a light tug. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry.”

Joe shook his head. “Not as sorry as you should be. Do you have any idea what kind of danger you put yourself in?”

Barry shrugged his shoulders weakly. “Nothing bad happened. He didn’t even recognize me.”

“Yeah, because of all the hard work I put into keeping your ass out of the spotlight. Hard work that’s just been thrown to the wind.”

Barry shook his head. “But he didn’t bother us. In fact, from what I could see, he looked like an alright guy, dad.”

Joe mimicked Barry’s head shake and walked around the desk to ease down into his chair. “You don’t get it Barr. There’s a reason everyone calls him Cold.” He reached up and rubbed his forehead. “He’s like ice. Slick, quick, and deadly. He doesn’t play by the rules and putting a bullet in your head wouldn’t even make him blink. I won’t even get into what repercussions you toeing in their area could bring.”

He swallowed, unsure how to respond so he gave another weak apology. “I really am sorry.”

Joe sighed and stared at Barry quietly, thinking. “Look, I know you’re in college. I know you missed the chance to play around in high school, but Barry, you’re still a seventeen year old kid. You can’t go out and get boozed up, hook up with strangers, and endanger your life. You are not an adult yet Barry. Not-” he cut off and brought a finger up quickly throwing a hard look at him, “that it would be acceptable as an adult either.” He dropped his hands to the surface of the table, tapping his nails lightly. “Which is why you’ll be spending the six weeks of your break grounded. No phone, no TV, no computer, _and_ you can help Jose with the gardening and lawn care.”

Barry felt his stomach drop but didn’t dare argue. “Yes, Sir.”

Joe nodded to the door. “Go to bed. I’ll see you bright and early at seven for breakfast.”

Barry nodded dejectedly and turned to go. 

“Barry.”

He looked back. “Yeah?”

Joe looked at him with a stern tilt to his head. “You _did_ use a condom, right?”

Barry was sure his face burst into flames but he nodded and turned to leave, his feet moving a little quicker, desperately wanting the night to end and to forget the whole awkward situation. Just as he opened the door he was stopped again. 

“Hey.” 

Barry looked back not even hiding that he wanted to get out of there. 

Joe’s eyes twinkled. “Was it good?”

Barry’s mouth dropped open in mortification, his face growing ten times hotter. “Oh my god! _Dad!_ ”

He practically jumped out of the office, slamming the door as he left and raced up the stairs, listening to Joe’s playful laughter the entire way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was SO hard to write for some reason. Still feels kinda stiff to me but I've stared at it for over a week now. Better to just post it than get too frustrated. Blah.

5 Years Later

“There’s something brewing, that much is obvious but it’s coming up in our blind spot and if it hits before we figure it out it’s going to blow us apart.”

Barry sat quietly to Joe’s right listening as he spoke, wishing he was anywhere but in his present position. He’d known this day was coming, he’d known for a while now but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. 

To be fair, Joe had given him more time than he would have had if his biological father had lived. He had no doubt that if Henry Allen had been alive his life would have been drastically different. From what little he remembered about the man, he’d been hard and brutal and he only had memories of the man in passing or in punishment. He’d probably be in the same position as Eddie and Julian, seasoned killers trained to cut down threats without remorse and insanely loyal to the family.

Instead he’d grown up with Iris and Wally with a fairytale-like childhood. He’d been free to run the hills behind the West Estate playing with his adoptive siblings, imagining themselves pirates or princes and princesses, catching fireflies, and laying in the grass at night searching for shooting stars. Holidays and birthdays were practically magical, Joe always going above and beyond to see the wonder-filled smiles on his children’s faces. He’d had hugs and kisses, bedtime stories, and an abundance of love. He’d gone to the finest schools and after he’d completed his education Joe had let him travel the world for two years with a generous allowance and endless possibilities. 

Now however, it was time to settle down and make his place. Joe’s words, not Barry’s. He envied Iris’s freedom and pitied Wally’s fate, though he knew his little brother wouldn’t want it. At sixteen Wally already had the aptitude for this lifestyle, that was transparently clear to Barry, but Joe wouldn’t pull him in until he’d been given the same luxury Barry had been given, or, more likely, until Wally formally requested his training begin which no doubt would be his eighteenth birthday given the drive Wally already exhibited. 

“Which is why I’m bringing Barry in.”

No one looked at him at the statement, no murmurs or shocked looks. Like Barry, everyone knew this was coming. 

_“If I could avoid it I would son. I’d love nothing more than to let you live your life free of all this. But I can’t. I need your skills and they will be what helps keep your brother and sister safe.”_ Joe’s words from the week before echoed in his mind, simultaneously throwing a boulder over his shoulders while forcing his spine to straighten.

Of course he’d do anything to protect his family, even if it meant taking up a position he didn’t want, forcing his life to turn in a direction not of his choosing. 

He blinked as his view of the cherry wood table he stared at was suddenly hidden by a manila folder pushed in front of him. 

He looked up to Joe, who pointed at the folder. 

“That has most of the key players in it, from top dogs right down to notable runners, and any information about their activities, skills, and personalities we have on them.” 

Barry flipped it open and quickly skimmed over the contents as his father spoke. 

“A few of the uppers will be making an appearance at the charity tomorrow night. With the exception of Lewis Snart, he avoids these kinds of things, usually sending his son in his place. The Santini brothers are a gamble, sometimes they show up together, sometimes only one of them.”

Barry’s fingers paused halfway in, eyes landing on a name that made his teeth grit. He’d spent the years putting this mistake behind him, keeping Leonard Snart from his thoughts even though the mans face hovered over his mind at random moment’s forcing him to remember the old saying ‘ _you never forget your first_ ’ at the worst times. 

Like when he was tongue deep with an attractive man or woman, eager and ready to go a little further, Snart’s face would flash and just like that the butterflies were back and he was suddenly too nervous to move forward. He wouldn’t even touch on the point that it stripped him of any desire to take things to the next step.

He was smart enough to know that it was all psychological, a weak spot brought on by a experience that ended badly but he refused to study it further. Especially if it meant analyzing why he only thought of calloused hands and smooth lips when he laid in bed touching himself. 

He was torn from his thoughts at the loud snap of Joe’s fingers in his face.

“Hey, you hear me?”

He cleared his throat and scanned the men around the table, all looking at him, then faced Joe, forcibly pushing away his thoughts of Snart. “Sorry, lost in thought. What was that?”

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea boss. I don’t think he’s ready to just jump in the water.” Eddie looked at him in his usual composed and patient fashion. He knew Eddie wasn’t trying to demean him or his lack of experience with the way the rest of them lived. It was simply an honest and open observation coming from a man he’d known practically his entire life and Eddie’s own way of making sure Barry was kept safe. Barry threw him a small, grateful smile as Joe spoke.

“I don’t like it either but we need his eyes.” He turned back to Barry and repeated what he’d missed while he was lost in thought. “I want you to go over what’s in the file and tomorrow observe the players. You don’t have to interact with them at the charity if you’re not comfortable but it might help you get through the dinner we’ll be having with them the next night if you do.”

Barry’s stomach clenched at the mention of the meeting he’d be attending with Joe. A charity event with hundreds of other, blessedly nonviolent, individuals he could handle. Sitting in a private room with nothing but killers? Yeah, Barry would much rather shove nails in his eyes. 

“Don’t give me that look boy, it’s not negotiable. You’re going.” 

Barry hadn’t realized he was scowling at Joe but he wasn’t surprised. There had been a fairly heated argument between them when he’d been told it was required he go. He could do his job easily at the charity and other interactions like it. He didn’t need an up-close and personal gathering to study them.

But Joe had been firm and Barry had relented simply because even though it wasn’t needed, the social interaction between all the men together would offer more insight. 

Julian was the next to speak. “I’ve already ordered men to stand watch at key points around and within the facility but I still think it would be beneficial if Barry had a crash lesson on how to handle a firearm.”

“No.” All eyes turned back to him and he lifted his chin. “I understand the need to have me at these functions but I refuse to step even further in by carrying a gun.” He shook his head with finality. “I won’t do it.”

Joe sighed. They’d run in circles on the subject for years and it was the one thing Barry refused to budge on, even when faced with Joe’s ire, something that usually cowed him. 

Julian, however, had always been quick to pick an argument with him. 

“You do realize it’s for your safety? There’s too many variables that could leave you vulnerable even under our watch. This shouldn’t even be a question.”

“And I understand that but it’s still my choice and you won’t change my mind.”

“So you’d rather endanger our lives or, god forbid, one of your family members, because you’re too selfish to learn how to defend yourself?”

Barry’s mouth dropped open, anger burning hot at the accusation and implication that he would put his family in danger. He matched the sneering face of the other man from across the table. “Fuck you, you egotistical—“

“Enough!” Joe’s hand slapped down on the table halting the rest of his words. He glared over at Julian a moment longer before turning to Joe. 

“I don’t care what this prick thinks.” He jabbed his finger in the direction of said man. “I’m not doing it.”

Joe’s mouth opened and Barry prepared to defend his choice further when the quiet voice of the man sitting at the other end of the table finally broke his silence. 

“I agree with Barry.”

All eyes turned to Harrison Wells. He’d been Joe’s advisor for as long as Barry could remember and had become much like a second parental figure to Barry, encouraging him his entire life to push his mind further, learn all he could, and simply enjoy the world. 

He sat forward in his chair, hands forming a steeple in front of him. “This was never meant to be his path and we shouldn’t push for more than he’s ready for, what he’s not comfortable with.” He gave Barry a small smile that Barry returned, silently thanking the man, before Wells turned to look in Eddie and Julian’s direction. 

“I personally have complete faith in your abilities and the abilities of your men to keep not only Barry safe, but the entire family as well.”

Julian looked prepared to argue but the room was stilled by the quiet raise of Joe’s hand. He tapped a finger against his lips, his eyes shifting from Wells to Barry before he sighed. 

“Fine.” He zeroed in on his son. “But I expect you to be on your toes. If anything seems off, even if all you have is a gut feeling that something is wrong, you signal to one of us. We clear?”

Barry nodded his relief. 

“Yes, Sir.”

“I will make one suggestion however.” Harrison continued. “Reign your temper, Barry. Lewis Snart enjoys throwing insults but not so much having them pitched back. While I would very much like to see the man endure your snapping tongue, I’d rather not have to watch Joe bury his son because he couldn’t control his mouth.” 

“He’s right,” Joe started “In fact, if you can avoid interacting with Lewis without me around, do it. Lewis is a ticking bomb and until you can figure out which buttons _not_ to push I don’t want you testing any of them out. Just observe unless you’re with me.”

“And if I can’t avoid it?”

Joe shook his head. “Then you bite your tongue and just be as polite as you can.”

Barry sighed. This was going to be _such_ a disaster.   
>>>

Len pulled up on the knot of his tie, straightening it, before giving himself a once over, scowling at his reflection in the mirror. He hated this shit and would like nothing more than to strip out of the monkey suit and say to hell with it all, but that wasn’t an option. Before his father’s sanity began slipping he’d stare down at his son (usually after a good slap or two) and remind him that with power, came responsibility. 

Not that the old man would step up to it now. Too much power, greed, arrogance, mixed with pure laziness had Len scrambling a few years back to regain what his father had lost them- power _and_ respect. 

Fortunately, whatever Len put his mind to, he achieved.

Unfortunately, that meant Len had to step up to the plate and play the game.

He sighed and exited his closet, moving back to his bedroom where he spied the delightful sight of a small pale ass in perfect view lounging in the bed. He leaned over to give it a quick slap as he passed it to the chair beyond. 

“Time for you to leave.” He announced as he bent to put on his ridiculously expensive and _extremely_ uncomfortable shoes that Lisa had insisted he own. 

The figure twisted, sitting up to face him. “Are you sure you have to go? You’d have more fun with me.”

Len looked up at the pretty man in his bed. Curly blonde hair fell into almond shaped eyes as his legs parted invitingly, showing just a hint of his swollen, already well used hole. 

The move was supposed to be enticing but Len couldn’t muster up even a spark of want. The man was more than attractive, beautiful really, and he had enough allure to get his partners into bed but once there the flame dwindled. He’d been nothing more than quiet moans, soft touches, with sloppy sucks to Len’s neck and cliché cooing comments about his impressive prowess. But Len wouldn’t complain. He’d been an easy lay and had gotten the job done.

Now he just wanted him to leave. 

His lips formed in a tight smile. “We’ll agree to disagree.” He nodded his head to the door. “Out. There’s a cab waiting.”

The man’s attractive face morphed into an ugly scowl as he huffed and moved from the bed to gather up his clothes, mumbling about dickheads and assholes causing Len to smirk. 

After taking, in Len’s opinion, too much time to slip into clothes that had been thrown haphazardly throughout the room, the blonde stopped on his way out the door, turning back to Len.

“Don’t for one second think you’ll be hearing from me again.” 

Len slapped his hand over his chest in a mocking gesture of pain. “My heart is breaking.”

He received a glare before his bedroom door slammed. Len rolled his eyes and chided himself for picking up yet another bitchy twink. You’d think he’d learn his lesson but damned if perky asses and cute boyish faces didn’t get his dick twitching for an introduction. 

He stood and moved over to one of the bedside tables, opening it and drawing out his holster and gun, slipping it over his arms and sliding the gun in place before making his way downstairs and through the main area of his condo to the exit, grabbing his suit jacket on the way. 

Mick was already waiting for him in the car when he slid into the backseat. A glass filled with amber liquid was handed to him which he thankfully took as his friend knocked back his own drink and reached for the bottle in the side panel for a refill. He didn’t comment on the action. Mick hated these things as much as he did but the part that made Mick not only a good partner, but also a good friend, was that he knew the responsibilities placed on Len’s shoulders, knew the game had to be played and was loyal to death. 

Lewis liked to grumble that he didn’t attend these functions because he couldn’t stand the snobby pricks that packed the rooms but everyone knew the real reason was because he didn’t have the finesse required to nudge the political chess pieces that would be there in the direction that they needed to go. He was crass and gruff with no skill that allowed him to transform into the character he needed to play, and no knowledge on how to play the right role. That was where Len stepped in. He could rub shoulders with the lowest, rat-like drug dealers in the streets all the way up to the senators and political money bags that would be at the charity tonight with confident ease.

The ride to the event centre was quiet, the only sound was the clinking of glass as he or Mick poured another drink, hoping the liquid would loosen their foul moods. Mick was lucky. He didn’t really have any need to schmooze anyone, he could easily keep to the shadows and observe. It was Len that had the headache of dealing with the stiff-necks. 

By the time that they walked through the large doors into the heavily decorated building Micks mood had darkened even further despite nearly finishing an entire bottle of booze. 

“Feels like we’re walking to our own guillotines.”

Len plastered a fake smile on his face, readying himself for a night of dull gossip and networking, but responded with a real laugh. 

“Don’t exaggerate Mick, it’s just one night with a bunch of uppities. We’ll walk away with our head still firmly attached.”

Mick grunted beside him but Len noticed he also relaxed his face, morphing from killer to fat-pocket in nothing more than a blink of the eye. He understood where his friend was coming from, he didn’t want to be there either.

But as he saw the hostess already moving toward them he began relating even further with the pyro’s comment. 

“Off with their heads,” he murmured under his breath making Mick breathe out a chuckle. 

He slapped his hand on Len’s back. “Have fun with your queen. I’m gonna go find a dark corner to hide in.” 

“Coward,” he whispered to his friends retreating back before turning to face the woman that stepped up to him, her heavy perfume surrounding him like a cloud of floral smog. 

“Ah, Mrs. Frasier. It’s good to see you again, and looking as lovely as ever.”

The obese woman practically tittered at his comment, her jowls jiggling as she reached her hand out to clasp his. “Mr. Snart, still the charmer I see. How have you been? It’s been some time since we last had the chance to talk.”

‘ _Not long enough,_ ’ he thought as he smiled down at her. “You wound me. I only speak the truth.” 

As she let out another captivated giggle he placed her hand at his arm and began walking them further into the room, knowing how easily distracted she could become and hoping she’d find another victim quickly. 

“I believe the last time we saw each other was seven months ago at the fundraiser for Christmas and I’ve been well, as I hope you are?”

“Oh, old age has been trying to get the best of me but I’ve been well enough.” She patted his arm. “I was so happy to see your RSVP Mr. Snart.”

He raised his brows but kept his expression light, knowing exactly what was coming. It happened at least once at each of these events. “Oh?”

“My granddaughter is here tonight.” She smiled up at him through her dark, thinning lashes. “I’d love to introduce you. I think you two would make quite the pair.”

_Gold-digging socialite? Not a chance in hell._ Now for the routine. Incline the head, smile graciously, and respond with eager politeness. “I’d be honored.”

The woman beamed at him before her gaze was drawn away, her brows pushed together with curiosity. “Wonderful dear, but later, yes? I believe I’ll have to excuse myself, I think I see an old colleague of my late husband.” 

As she ran off as fast as her fat legs would carry her Len turned to find the bar. 

He wasn’t surprised by the matchmaking. He never was with any of it. These people knew the rumors but they also knew that with money, rumors were bound to fly. As far as any of them knew for _certain_ he was a successful business man with a shitload of dough and that’s the only thing they would _ever_ know. He had his hand in a little of everything, from retail to restaurants and bars, to the stock market. He’d made sure to keep his less than reputable businesses far from his name and made sure his name stayed clean by well placed lackeys within the CCPD. To the eyes of Central City’s elite, he was one of them. 

Luckily he’d only been stopped twice on his way to the bar, both conversations quick and before long he was leaning against an arch taking in the room, drink in hand. 

He’d scanned his surroundings when he first entered, a habit that had formed many years before, and had taken note of men in several areas that looked out of place. Now he took the time to study them and scope out who they were here for. 

He’d already seen Vincent Santini but like Len he’d only brought one muscle. Although, he wouldn’t call Mick his muscle, more like backup. Len could take care of himself but it never hurt to have another set of eyes and an extra gun. Santini’s man however was nothing more than muscle, that much was obvious. 

West was here of course but again, like the other two, there was only one man at a discrete distance.

So who here needed that kind of security?

Len began mapping out the men’s places around the room, watching their eyes, and following their movement that seemed to be flowing like a synchronized group, fluently and discretely around the room, obviously moving with whoever they were guarding. 

The dance floor seemed to be the center of their focus at the moment so Len let his eyes travel over the nameless couples moving to the easy sound of the instrumental band and he froze.

Deja-vu came at him in a rush. 

The last time he’d seen the kid had been on another dance floor but now, instead of pounding bass and sexy sway to his hips, he stood tall, guiding an attractive redhead to a soft jazz melody. 

Barry Allen was still as pretty as ever. The soft, boyish face was only minimally changed, only showing the barest hint that he’d gone from seventeen year old kid to grown man. He was still slender, lithe, but his shoulders were broader now, though not by much. 

That night, five years ago, Len had been moving across the bar, intent to press himself up behind the boy as he swung his hips wanting to feel the ass move over his groin as he grinded against him in time to the music but had been stopped by his friends approach. 

Now even after all the years, even with only passing thoughts of the kid that came few and far between, he found the urge to move forward, toward the dance floor and the brunet like he had a magnetic pull, hadn’t diminished. He still wanted to dance with the kid even if it wasn’t a sex-inducing beat, even if it was to low, boring easy listening music in front of a group of gossiping vultures. 

Because the kid was still sexy as ever.

It seemed, though, that fate was against him again as he watched the couple slow to a halt.

Barry turned, guiding his stunning companion off the dance floor, what looked like an easy conversation flowing between them. 

Halfway through a smile down at the women Barry’s eyes lifted, just a casual roaming look, second nature while in a crowded room, and locked with his. 

He stopped bodily, his smile falling from his lips and Len had no idea how the kid was still standing as he watched the face turn white as a sheet then rush to beet red. The blood draining and then roaring back couldn’t have been good for him but Len grinned as the nickname he’d decided on years ago fluttered through his mind.

The woman on his arm said something to him and laid her other hand on his chest causing Barry to blink rapidly, eyes twitching to her and back to him, before swallowing thickly and giving her a weak smile. He nodded and turned, his face averted from Len with a stiff back. 

Then he proceeded to ignore Len. 

Normally he wasn’t the type to put up with such a blatant show of dismissal but coming from the kid, it was amusing. Amusing because even though he tried to disregard Len’s presence, it was obvious that he was very aware. The rest of the night, no matter where Len was at in the room, no matter what position he moved to, the kid had managed to keep his back to him. His frame was lined with tension and he stuck close to his father who also noticed that his behavior was off if the concerned looks were anything to go by. 

But the kid couldn’t change the seating arrangement for supper and though they were at separate tables, by some grace, he’d been placed facing Len, in direct line of sight. He picked at his food, staring down at it with a strained expression. 

“Having fun?”

He glanced at Mick who’d emerged from the shadows by the enticement of food, never one to pass up a meal, then back to the kid. 

“Loads.”

“Poor kid looks like he’s gonna hurl all over his plate. It’d be a waste.” His friend kept his voice low, mindful of the other occupants at their table. “Still wanting round two after all these years?”

He was only mildly surprised that Mick had remembered. 

“The thought is intriguing.” He murmured, eyes still trained on the brunet. 

“I like fire Lenny but even I know when one is deadly. West ain’t like your pops, he’s protective when it comes to his kids. That piece of ass really worth the war that’d be attached to it?” 

Len shrugged. “Depends on whether or not that piece of ass is as good as it was five years ago.” He shook his head and leaned back in his seat. “Actually, I’d like to know why he’s here. I thought he wasn’t part of all this. Different from the others.”

“Maybe West is helping him work his way up the straight and narrow. Just cause he’s here doesn’t mean he’s making a place in the life. There’s a lot of yuppies here tonight and that’d be right up the kid’s alley.”

“Then why all the guards?”

“Told you, West is protective, especially of that one.” Mick grunted. 

Len shook his head, watching as Barry leaned over, speaking to his father before standing and moving stiffly across the room. “Seems a little excessive just to start some fresh connections. But,” he paused as Barry left the main area, disappearing into the hallway beyond it. “There’s only one way to find out. I’ll be back in a bit.” 

He pushed his chair out and moved around the table, following in the direction the kid had disappeared to. 

The hall was empty other than a few people, the event workers and the odd straggler stepping out to take a call. There were really only two options to choose from, outside to the left or the bathrooms to the right and down the hall. Deciding that the bathrooms were most likely Barry’s destination, he made his way to the door. 

When he entered Barry was bent in front of one of the sinks, splashing water on his face and Len let his eyes linger for a moment on the slack covered backside, head cocked, before speaking. 

“You certainly are a sight for sore eyes, Scarlet.”

Amusement had his lips twitching upward as the kid startled and whipped around, hands braced against the counter behind him, face dripping. 

“Jesus! Don’t sneak up on people like that!” He hissed with alarm.

Len watched as the surprise seeped away to be replaced with wariness. He looked over Len’s shoulder to the exit then settled the guarded look back on him. 

Len smiled and looked through his lashes at the kid, not at all hiding the way his eyes moved up and down Barry’s lean body. 

“This place echoes like a cathedral. The dead could have heard me. Your mind a little preoccupied tonight?”

Barry’s lips thinned and Len saw the quick flash of anger, whether it was from the appraising look or his words, he didn’t know. 

He turned and grabbed a napkin from the counter, wiping his face swiftly, and then turned to make his way around Len. “Excuse me.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Len quickly sidestepped to block his way and the kid skidded to a halt, backing away from his outstretched hand before it could touch him. “What’s the rush?”

Barry took a deep breath before looking up at him with a strained expression. “Move. I need to get back.”

“Are you really that eager to listen to our hostess’s droll end of supper speech?” He shrugged and took a step toward Barry, who took a hasty step back at his approach. “It’s pretty much the same every year. You’re not missing much.”

“My father--”

“Is probably quite happily listening to her drone on.” He interrupted. “Speaking of him, what’s daddy suddenly breaking you out for? Shouldn’t you be halfway across the world right now playing spoiled rich kid partying out of his pops wallet?”

The kid’s mouth dropped open, Len’s remark obviously hitting a nerve. He could see the flash of outrage as his back straightened. Len never would have guessed that there was a temper lurking under the surface and if he was perfectly honest with himself it was… refreshing. Captivating, actually. Men like Barry- green, shy and quiet, they were awkward or reserved. Their eyes didn’t flash or narrow and they certainly didn’t step into his space and hiss at him. 

“Absolutely _none_ of that is your business.”

He cocked his head and looked down at the angry face staring up at him. “Wrong. I make every aspect of Joe West and the Santini’s lives my business. That’s how the game is played. And now that the West kiddos are growing up and _showing_ up it peaks my interest even more so.” He gave him a tight smile and continued. “And I know a lot about you three.”

He raised his hand, ticking each point off with his fingers. “Little Wally has a knack for the business. He hasn’t marked his territory yet but his mane it coming in thick and word is he’s next in line for the throne. The lovely Miss West is pursuing her dreams in journalism but with dear old dad backing her she’ll be running the place soon enough. What a clever way to keep the family name out of the press, wouldn’t you say? Now behind that warm endearing face of hers she’s cool and collected and I have no doubt she’d shoot a person in the belly just to watch them bleed out if they stepped on her toes.”

“Now you,” he moved forward, crowding the other man and only mildly surprised when he didn’t take a step back, instead held his position, his face growing redder in anger by the second. 

Len couldn’t help the bubble of laughter when his hand was slapped away as it reached out to brush Barry’s suit covered arm. When was the last time someone had the balls to do that to him? He shook his head and continued. “Last I heard you were holed up in a library in Cairo, your nose stuck in one dusty tome after another completely separated from all this, no desire to take a place in daddy’s business and _yet_ , here you are dancing with pretty girls, mingling with the masses, and standing tall and proud next to pops. He’s brought some serious muscle just for you so it makes me wonder why you’re here.”

Barry’s red face stared defiantly up at him. “As I said, none of that is any of your business.” It was said in a controlled, final tone and Len felt a pang of disappointment. He’d hoped there’d be a bit more to the kid’s ire. The angry ones were always the most fun. 

He was a fraction of a second to turning and leaving because obviously the kid wasn’t what Len thought he’d be, no longer the amusing kid he used to be, not even a whiff of excitement, when Barry huffed and brought his hands up to his hips, rolling his eyes. 

“What does it even matter to you if I came home to see my family _or_ that I have the freedom to travel? By the way, I don’t _party_ , I _study_ and yes Joe pays for some of that but I do have my _own_ money and the _muscle_ , as you put it, is here because of people like _you_.” He reached up and jabbed a finger in Lens chest to emphasize and Len found himself smiling. 

_Now this was more like it._

He actually should have broken the finger the moment it touched him but the thought of dampening the fiery flash in the brat’s eyes and turning it to pain had no pull. 

Instead he let his grin widen and his brows raise. “People like me?”

“Yes, people like you. Criminals and killers that seem to think its ok to snoop in others lives, corner people in bathrooms and _don’t let them leave_.”

“I remember a time that you quite happily _followed_ me into a bathroom and didn’t _want_ to leave.”

That did it. Barry’s face stuttered and paled, he took a hasty step back. His mouth opened then snapped shut, his eyes shifting to the side as the expected flush rose in his cheeks. 

“Speaking of that,” Len purred, “Twice now I’ve missed my chance at a dance with you. I feel cheated.”

The kid stared at him blankly. “Or,” he started again, letting his grin turn into a leer, “we could just slip into one of these stalls. For old times’ sake?”

Barry’s blank look melted away as he snorted. “Not if my life depended on it.”

Before he could reply the door opened behind him and Len turned to find Eddie Thawne standing in the doorway shifting his gaze between the two of them, lingering a little longer on Len before addressing Barry. 

“Everything ok here?”

Barry swallowed but nodded quickly, “Yeah, it’s fine.” He moved around Len giving a wide berth as if he expected him to block his way again. 

“Then your father is ready to leave.” Thawne said as Barry stepped up to him. 

Barry nodded again and the other man held the door open for the kid to step through. Just he began to exit Len called out, “A raincheck then. On that dance.”

The kid tripped and Thawne was quick to reach out to steady him. Barry looked back with wide eyes before Len’s sight was blocked by the guard. He shut the door behind Barry and turned back to Len. 

They stared at one another for a moment, sizing each other up. Len personally had nothing against Thawne. The man had always been professionally polite and had never given him a reason to dislike him. 

The blond moved forward, past him to the mirror and Len turned and leaned against the stall behind him, watching as Thawne reached up and made a show of straightening his tie.

“Straight to the point?” He asked without looking at Len.

“Preferably.”

Thawne nodded, his eyes meeting Len’s through the mirror. “Stay away from the kid.” 

Lens lips quirked up. “Just having a friendly conversation, Thawne. No need to _warn_ me away.” 

Thawne’s lips thinned at the condescending drawl. 

“I think there’s plenty of need and it didn’t look like Mr. Allen was enjoying your _friendly_ conversation.”

“He was rather jumpy, wasn’t he? I wonder why?” Len asked while studying his nails. 

Thawne finally turned to face him, hands in the pockets of his suit jacket. “Look. It doesn’t take someone like Barry to know what went down that night at your bar.” 

Len’s ears perked at the other mans words. _Someone like Barry?_ So the kid _was_ being brought in. The statement came with a hundred other questions but Thawne continued speaking, pulling Len from his thoughts. 

“He looked and smelled like he’d just rolled through an orgy and the first person he looked up at was _you_.” The man took a step forward. “Now I didn’t mention my observation to Mr. West because, frankly, I like the quiet between the families and I don’t want _noise_ over Barry’s poor choice, over one moment of teenage rebellion.”

Len’s brows rose. “Sounds like you and West don’t think he’s capable of making big boy choices.”

“The opposite actually, he’s free to make any choice he’d like but he may or may not fully understand the repercussions of his choices. I could go to him with my advice but he probably wouldn’t appreciate the depth of my meaning. You, however, do. Which is why I’m telling you, he’s not one of your fuck and dump twinkies and Mr. West will have no qualms over blood spilt in his defense.”

He grinned, the threat was blatant, and yet instead of anger he felt a sudden drive to challenge the threat, see how far he could take it. 

Something flickered behind Thawne’s eyes, like he was noticing something about Len for the first time and whatever he’d decided on had the other man straightening his back and hardening his face as Len took his turn at stepping closer. 

“Oh, I don’t know Thawne. His cute little ass bouncing on my dick might be worth a little spilt blood. What if the kid decides he’d like to take a tumble in my bed?”

“Won’t happen. He knows to stay away from scum like you.”

“You mean killers, drug lords, pimps, that kind of scum? News flash, he’s already surrounded by all that. Pot and kettle. And your boss seems content to push him even closer to us.”

Once again, the door to the restroom opened this time making Thawne pause. A short round man entered eyeing the two men before walking to a urinal. 

West’s man cleared his throat and nodded to Len. “It’s been good talking to you Mr. Snart. I hope I’ve cleared up any confusion.”

Len inclined his head. “Likewise Mr. Thawne. Your proposal is still a little fuzzy around the edges. We’ll just have to toss the dice and see where they land.”

“I wouldn’t leave it to chance if I were you.” 

The chill in Thawne’s voice had the man at the urinal giving the pair sidelong looks and Len met his tone with an equal chill. “I leave everything to chance and I still always come out on top.”

The blond nodded. “Good to know. If you’ll excuse me?”

Snart watched the other man leave and grinned as the door closed. The other man in the room stepped around him to move to the sink and Len did the same. He caught the nervous flicker of eyes in the mirror as he straightened the fold in his suit jacket. 

With a shrug he said, “They get so touchy when one of their smaller establishments is in sight for acquisition.”

The expression on the other’s face eased and he gave Len a _what-can-you-do_ smile. 

And what _could_ he do? Barry Allen was a forbidden fruit and Len was intrigued, not to mention bored. There was definitely something about him that called to Len and temptation had always been a weak spot for him. The kid was a contradicting mix of sweet, naïve, worldly, and hot-tempered and Len wanted to stir the contents of that pot to see what the combination gave him. 

So, _what else could he do_?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So-fun fact-I had a Savannah growing up with the exact same name, the exact mannerisms (guarding doors- hence the name) and we got him in the same circumstances. At 12 years old he was the same height as me when he stood on his back paws. My mother actually had to get a permit to adopt him from the rescue center because F1 Savannah's weren't legal in my state without one, only F3's and below. 
> 
> So this is my little tribute to him.

Barry’s eyes cracked open and he groaned at the sharp rays of sun that filtered in through the window of his bedroom to glitter into his eyes. He rolled over, grabbing a pillow as he did and threw it over his face only to groan again at the sound of his alarm suddenly blaring. 

“No. Not today,” he mumbled to himself as he reached a hand out blindly to silence the shrill beeping coming from his bedside table. 

Today he was determined to sleep in. He was going to lay there in his bed until he was damn well good and ready to leave it and there was nothing and no one that he would allow to take that from him. 

He rolled himself into a cocoon made of fluffy comforter and huffed from beneath the pillow. Yes, he was going to stay just like this until he’d mastered the courage to face the day. 

Because it was _that_ day. 

The day he was willingly walking to his death. 

And he was _not_ being dramatic. Not in the least. 

He was going to walk into the lions den and he was going to be eaten alive and that was the _only_ scenario that could possibly come from this disaster because despite the warning Harrison had given him he _knew_ he had no control over what idiot thing popped out of his flapping mouth. 

So that was what was going to happen. He was going to walk in next to Joe and his father was just going to _feed_ him to the lethal, snarling beasts. 

The bed dipped as a large body landed beside his head. He nudged the pillow just enough to peek out at the round yellow eyes staring back at him. He untangled one arm from the blanket and reached out to scratch under a furry chin.

“You’ll have to go live with Joe after I’m gone Elegua. He’ll take care of you I promise.”

Elegua looked back at him with indifference, his big eyes blinked lazily as if he were telling him to ‘knock it off.’

Barry huffed a sigh and pulled the pillow off him, pushing it back under his head and laying back with a huff. “Oh fine, you’re right. I’m not gonna die tonight. No,” he said nodding, “that will come _tomorrow_. Gotta give ‘em time to put the hit out after all.”

A paw batted at his cheek and he lifted the cover and drew the large Savannah Cat to him, tucking him in next to his body before dropping the covers back. 

The furry body lined against his purred and he tilted his head as his feline friend nuzzled against his jaw.

“Although, I don’t know why I’m so opposed to dying. After last night it should be a relief.”

God, last night. 

Of course he’d known Len would be there. Joe had told him as much. But that had done absolutely _jack_ to prepare him at actually _seeing_ him.

Everything had been going fine. Perfect even. And then he caught sight of those brilliant blue eyes he could so clearly remember from years ago and it all went to hell from there. 

The man stared at him all freaking night. He could feel the icy gaze drilling into him no matter where he moved to. It was searing and he didn’t have to look up to know it.

Obviously he _had_ looked though. The man was still sex on a stick and far be it from Barry to not appreciate the sight. Leonard Snart was a seriously bad idea in reality but that didn’t mean he couldn’t look. 

He’d worn all black, fitting in Barry’s opinion considering the dark nature of his work, and though he blended like a chameleon with the other, normal and _law abiding_ guests, the cocky confidence that he radiated stuck out like a sore thumb. 

The man _knew_ he looked good. He knew he could sweep any man or woman in the building away with just a twist of his lips and it showed. 

At one moment, while sitting down for supper, a wistful thought crossed his mind. Just a brief wish that the circumstances were different and he could have another taste. The thought had him scrambling, chagrin and shame at the idea mixing in a whirlwind and he’d had to excuse himself.

And then Len had managed to corner him in the bathroom-- _another freaking bathroom_ \--and had insulted him and propositioned him for sex in damn near one breath. 

Where the _hell_ did that asshole get off pulling shit like that?

Barry huffed again and glared at the ceiling. The guy was such a narcissistic, arrogant, _dick_.

The jerk had laughed at him too, like Barry was the punchline of some great joke. He’d brushed off Barry’s anger like it was nothing and in the end he’d practically ran from the room when Eddie showed up, tripping and red-faced like a fool. 

He supposed he should be grateful. He really should. He doubted there was another person within one of the families that would have stood there smiling with amusement as Barry jabbed them in the chest with his finger, slapped hands away, and called them, in no uncertain terms, a criminal lowlife. 

He should be really, _really_ grateful since he knew without a doubt that out of everyone, out of every single man or woman that moved within the families, Leonard Snart was the deadliest. 

Joe’s words five years ago hadn’t meant much to him then. Not to the seventeen year old that had been a little too drunk and a little too fucked out to grasp the reality of those words. 

Now that he was a tad older and a bit wiser he understood and he could barely believe his luck when he thought back to the previous two run-ins with the man. _Especially_ considering that he was someone from a rival family. 

Elegua’s deep meow pulled him back from his thoughts and he looked down at the cat staring up at him. 

“I suppose you want breakfast, don’t you?”

The cat gave another cry, ears perking up and eyes going bright, and Barry wondered at times like this if the feline could understand him. 

He threw the covers back and Elegua jumped from the bed as Barry rolled to the edge. 

“Alright, since it’s the last meal I’ll probably ever give you, how about something special this morning?”

As he followed the trotting cat from his bedroom he let out a whimpering groan. 

He was going to _die_.

*

Joe picked him up at six, right on the dot. He’d opened the door to his apartment to find Eddie waiting and the trepidation he felt must have been apparent because he chuckled and reached up to ruffle Barry’s perfectly styled hair. 

“Don’t look like that. It won’t be so bad. All you gotta do his sit there, eat your food, and keep your eyes and ears sharp.”

Barry batted at the hand and glared. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to actually go _in_ , he grumbled as he straightened his hair. 

“No but I’ve been to this type of thing more times than I can count and nothing horrible ever happened. You’ll be _fine_ Barry. Trust me. Come on,” he jerked his head toward the hall, “your dads waiting.”

Barry reluctantly followed the other man to the elevator and down to the waiting car where Joe greeted him as he slid into the seat beside him. 

“You ready for this?” His dad asked as the car pulled away from the curb.

Barry snorted. “Sure, as ready as anyone can be before they’re trapped in a room with a group of men that would like nothing more than to see you die.”

“They have no reason to want to see you _die_ Barr.” 

“Yet,” he mumbled as he slumped back into the seat. It was only a matter of time, he knew.

Joe rolled his eyes. “Look, you just be polite, play nice, and it’ll be time to leave before you know it.” He reached out and threw an arm over Barry’s shoulders pulling him into a half-hug. “I’m gonna be right there with you. You really think I’d let anything happen to you?”

He gave the man a small smile, not at all feeling it and completely for the sake of his father. He shifted back to his seat as Joes arm lifted.

“I guess you’re right.” He hated seeing that look on Joes face. It was hidden behind a show of lightheartedness but Barry saw the worry behind it and his father had enough burdens on his shoulders. There was no reason Barry should add to it. He let his smile widen a bit more. “I’m just being stupid. It’ll be fine.”

Joe nodded. “That’s right. You keep reminding yourself that everything’s ok and it will be.”

The dark skinned man sat back and let out a sigh. “I know you don’t want to be here Barry but I really do need you. We had another tenant drop last night. Clean up crew had to be called in. I can’t keep having the bodies of people leasing out my shops popping up for the police to stick their noses in.”

Guilt trickled over him at the admission. He was moping over his situation and had completely forgot the severity of _Joe’s_ situation. He needed to just suck it up and deal because his entire family was counting on him. 

“Which one?” He asked.

“Corner store over on First.”

“Was it like the others?”

Joe nodded again. “Bullet to the head. Camera’s from the store disabled. Money from my safe and the goods in the basement gone.”

Barry shuddered. That made the fifth cover tenant to die and all the hidden stashes wiped clean. It was also the fifth facility that Joe personally used as a base house for his runners which pushed a nagging thought back to light. 

“And you’re absolutely sure that it’s someone from the outside?” He’d asked before, after the second time it happened but now it was just getting ridiculous. 

“Positive.” 

Barry shook his head. “It seems odd that it’s just the base houses with the larger stashes. No one but someone from the inside could know exactly which ones to hit Dad.”

“Barry I personally investigated and okayed every single person working for me that would have that kind of information. There’s no one. I trust them all. It has to be the Santini’s or the Snart’s.”

Barry hummed and turned to look out the window knowing that it was an argument he wouldn’t win. Not unless he had concrete proof and without sitting down with all his father’s employees, something Joe would never allow him to do because he _trusted_ them, it would be impossible to get some.

They pulled up in front of the restaurant and Barry had to close his eyes and count to ten to calm his nerves enough step out of the car. 

This was supposed to be an engagement that showed cooperation and solidified an alliance between the three heads of Central City’s crime syndicate but everyone knew it was just for show. Just a farce to allow the families to check up on their enemies. They’d all walk away with the same hatred for one another as they’d always had but this time Joe wanted his eyes, wanted Barry’s take on the other men. 

The other two families were already there when they entered the private room they were escorted to and his stomach gave a twist as he followed behind Joe. He trusted Joe, knew that he wouldn’t let anything happen but as he spied the four other men sitting around the elegantly assembled table each wearing cool, calculating smiles disguised to be welcoming he had the perfectly logical urge to turn and walk in the other direction. Yes, it was perfectly logical because no one willingly walked into a den of hungry, feral, _deadly_ lions and that was what each of these men were. And he knew he was a sheep in a lion’s skin.

What in the _actual fuck_ had he been thinking?

He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, hiding the action from Joe’s enemies, knowing he couldn’t show weakness in front of them. It wasn’t acceptable. He pulled his shoulders back as he stepped fully into the room and met each man’s eyes briefly, determined to make his adoptive father proud, to show them that he belonged even if he knew he didn’t. 

When his gaze landed on Len he caught a glimpse of interest sharpen in his eyes, his lips curled by a hair as if the boring evening he’d been expecting just took a turn in the other direction. It made Barry’s teeth clench, unsure if he could manage keeping his ass out of hot water _and_ deal with Leonard Snart. 

“Ah, West, you made it. We were beginning to wonder if you would.”

Vincent Santini, Barry’s mind supplied, directed a false smile that Barry could see from a mile away in their direction. 

They weren’t late. In fact, they were a few minutes early but he saw the barely there twitch in Joe’s spine, too faint to be noticed by the others. From Joe’s reaction the comment was obviously a dig at Joe for being the last to arrive. So that was a thing with them? He supposed he could see it. Competition maybe? Simply just some macho male rivalry that was intensified given who they all were? Either way, it was apparently something to be embarrassed about among these men. Barry fought the eye roll at the testosterone that reeked through the comment and the ridiculousness of it. 

Joe moved to the table and sat and Barry followed suit. 

“I apologize, traffic was heavier than usual.” He turned slightly toward Barry. “I don’t believe you’ve met my oldest son, Barry. Barry, this is Vincent and Frank Santini. Lewis Snart. And of course you met Leonard last night,” he said not at all hiding the fact that he knew about the incident the night before.

He indicated to each man as he spoke and Barry nodded at each as his eyes moved around the table. When he reached Len the other man plastered a charming smile that was _almost_ convincing and tilted his head at an incline, not in the least bothered by the implication in Joe’s words.

“We did. A pleasure to see you again Mr. Allen.”

Barry fought to keep his eyes from narrowing and his voice light. “Likewise Mr. Snart.”

His teeth flashed as his smile widened. “ _Please_ , call me Len.”

His name rolled off his tongue thickly, purred in a tone that had Barry’s brain flashing back to the first time he’d learned it and a hot flush rose over his face. Barry gave a stiff nod and was saved from offering the same as Frank Santini spoke. 

“The one you adopted, yes?”

Fighting yet another urge to roll his eye’s for a second time in only the few minutes he’s been in the company of these men couldn’t have been a good sign but Barry was amazed at his ability not to _and_ control his mouth from blurting out, _‘Well aren’t you a smart cookie?’_ or _‘What was your first clue?’_ or even the simple and straightforward _‘Duh’_ because all three popped into his head at once and rested right on the tip of his tongue. 

He was equally amazed by Joes ability to smile politely and nod. 

“This would be him.”

“Henry Allen’s boy right? Wasn’t he gutted in the joint? I heard his intestines were wrapped around his neck.”

Lewis Snart casually sipped from a crystal tumbler and stared at Barry with cruel eyes. Barry knew it was only said to prick at him, test him, find a possible weak spot but luckily for Barry he barely remembered the man and the only affect it had on him was disgust at the crude, vulgar choice of words that held no decorum and he was careful to not let his distaste show. 

Barry watched Joes eyes go cold, a very rare observance for Barry since his father spent most of his life hiding this side of him. Now however he could clearly see the killer he knew his adopted father to be that, up until now, he had only known through word of mouth. 

“You heard correct and the men responsible were paid back. Tenfold.”

“Bah.” Vincent Santini waved his hand and shook his head. “That conversation in better had away from the supper table.”

Barry tuned out his fathers reply and the subsequent conversation that followed, zeroing in on what he was supposed to be doing. For the most part, even though they were all decidedly not your average run of the mill joes they were fairly easy to pick apart and by the time their waitress came to take their orders Barry could accurately guess what each of them would ask for. 

Except for Len. The man sat relaxed in his chair, his eyes distant, face neutral, looking for all the world uninterested and as if he was ignoring the rest of them. However, when asked a question he could easily answer telling Barry he was unnaturally skilled at hiding typical reactions and facial cues when needed. From a quick glance at his body posture Barry was able to find a few things but nothing that helped him identify what his father wanted him to find. 

Len was completely at ease in this room, not at all affected by who he sat with, totally sure of himself, like this was his natural habitat. Gone was the fashionably dressed, straight-laced businessman he’d projected the evening before that Barry had caught on to right from the moment he’d laid eyes on him. Now he was dressed casually, leather jacket and jeans, unbothered that he dressed astonishingly down for such an upscale restaurant showing everyone that he was _totally_ the hardened criminal that they all knew him to be and he was securely in his element. 

Even more disturbing was the fact that Barry got the distinct impression that Snart’s focus was centered on _him_. As if he were trying to read Barry as much as Barry tried to read him, even though the other man never once looked in his direction. 

Barry did his best to hide his own reactions and school his face into a neutral expression because if he knew anything at all he knew he didn’t want a man like Leonard Snart accurately reading _him_. 

His ears perked and he was brought from his musings at the mention of his brother. Joe had stiffened beside him telling Barry that the topic of their children was not something usually discussed, a taboo among them and it had Barry turning every ounce of his focus on the Santini’s. 

“Where is your other son, West? Wallace, I believe is his name?” The elder Santini looked at Joe, his eyes flicking to Barry once and away again.

There was something… something there that wasn’t right. They both sat relaxed, confident, and pretentiously, something every man at that table did but the Santini’s had a different air about them when they spoke that didn’t fit in with the report Joe had given him a few days ago.

Joe’s smile was cool and relaxed, the opposite of his current posture. “He’s too young for all of this still. He’s away for school.”

Lewis scoffed. “Bullshit. Start ‘em out young, I say. Puts a layer of callous on their hide.” He jerked his head toward Len while stuffing a bite of his prime rib between his lips, rudely smacking them as he spoke. “This one put his first bullet in a man at twelve, had his first pussy at fourteen, and was made at fifteen.”

Barry’s eyes shifted to Len. He’d already known all that. 

‘ _Except for the sex part_ ’ he thought, as his cheeks heated. 

But that didn’t stop the slight spike of pity that curled in him, the same as it had when he’d read about it. He reminded himself that not everyone got the same easy childhood he’d had and was very, _very_ careful not to let the feeling show because he knew that pity wasn’t something that would be appreciated in present company and would _definitely_ earn him a bullet.

The man still sat relaxed in his chair, his hand on his chin, plate pushed away and forgotten, looking for all the world bored if his eyes hadn’t abruptly shifted to meet Barry’s, staring at him with an gleam that had him swallowing as the flush in his cheeks intensified, his thoughts blatantly transparent. He wanted Barry to know that he was dangerous as if Barry hadn’t already known that. 

_And why exactly did that make his blood rush and toes curl?_ It wasn’t a fetish for him, he was certain, and it had never been an attractant before. In fact, he’d spent his entire life trying to stay away from criminal activity and dangerous men and up until now he’d mostly succeeded. 

He pushed the speculation of himself away. That wasn’t what he was here for, he reminded himself, as he watched Leonard watch _him_. 

And yes, Len without a doubt was openly letting Barry see what he was thinking, _wanted_ him to know, because from what he’d seen so far he now knew enough to realize that if he hadn’t the thoughts wouldn’t be visible. Barry shifted in his seat and realized too late, as Snart smirked at him, that he’d just shown Len exactly what _Barry_ was thinking.

Lewis continued, pointing at Barry with his fork. “Yours here looks like he’s gonna piss down his leg any minute now. He’s damn near shaking, quiet and nervous just sittin’ here with the real deal. I bet you ain’t even had your first pussy yet boy,” he chortled, aiming the last comment at Barry.

Chuckles erupted from everyone at the table with the exception of Joe and Len. As the men around them laughed Barry’s eyes met Len’s again. The criminal looked at him through his lashes, an almost cruel lift curving his lips as if he enjoyed Barry’s humiliation though not in a way that said he was _happy_ to see the embarrassment. More like he enjoyed that the opportunity had presented itself because even though the man leveled him with the unpleasant smile, at the same time those eyes challenged him to do something about it, prove them wrong. 

And it was clear he was waiting. 

Waiting for Barry to fold or make his play and the thought of letting these pretentious men currently laughing at him watch him crumble with shame, thinking him useless and weak and naïve, that he didn’t belong had fire shooting down his spine. 

He straightened in his chair and flicked his eyes to Vincent Santini. His voice was quiet as he spoke. 

“You hesitate to use your right hand and are holding your index and middle finger stiffly. It’s subtle and well hidden since you make an effort to use them as much as possible. Like your brother you would have preferred to have the linguine dish but wrapping the noodles on your fork would have proven to be too difficult, shown weakness, and no matter how small, that would have been unacceptable in present company. Also because it’s your trigger finger and you don’t want anyone to know you currently have a hindrance that slows you down. I know it’s your trigger finger because your gun is in a holster to on your left side. You hold that arm just a touch away from your body. From the light, fresh discoloration and moderate swelling I’d say you jammed your fingers early this afternoon. Most likely playing pool if the calloused indentation on the top of your middle finger on your left hand is anything to go by.”

His words were fast, monotone, precise and the laughter quieted as he spoke, a curious chill settling over the table, all eyes on him. Vincent’s hands dropped to his lap and his rat like eyes narrowed. Barry turned to Frank Santini. 

“Your gun is in the waist of your pants behind you. You’re fidgeting because it’s pressing on your spine and you can’t find a comfortable position. You keep looking at your phone. It’s on vibrate but you get a message approximately every four minutes. The last three you haven’t responded to but the light reflecting off your face tells me they’ve been pictures. When you put your phone away your pupils are dilated and your breathing is heavier by just a fraction. When the waitress last asked if there was anything needed you pulled her down to whisper in her ear. It was too low to hear but the movement of your mouth told me you asked for two slices of cheesecake to go. You have a more enjoyable engagement planned after you leave here. In addition, you hold your phone at an angle which tells me whoever your lover is, your brother doesn’t or wouldn’t approve. You also don’t like the seating arrangements. Your body is stiff and turned away from Leonard as much as politely possible. He makes you uncomfortable. Your eyes shift every time he moves.”

The man shifted in his seat, looking at his brother from the corner of his eye before settling over Barry with nostrils flared and red cheeks. 

Lewis Snart’s face was stone-like, cold, but Barry met his gaze without flinching. Beside him he saw Joe’s chin lift ever so slightly and his hand close into a loose, relaxed fist. It was an uneasy reaction and Barry realized that Joe was nervous about anything he might have to say to the other crime lord. 

Fine, something light then. 

“Your fingers have been tapping at the table and you keep looking to the door. Your other hand brushes your lips every now and then before dropping to rest at your chest where a pack of cigarettes are currently resting in your inner pocket. You’re desperate for a smoke but are too suspicious to leave and give the rest of us here time to plot your demise while you’re gone.” 

He said the last sentence with a roll of his eyes, unable to hold it back this time now that he’d let his guard down, as if it were a ridiculous suspicion even though he knew with their lifestyles it was entirely possible. Barry gave a decisive pause before adding, “You have two guns. One in a holster and another at your hip.”

He had moved his eyes away as he spoke and refused to look up to see what kind of reaction his words caused in the dangerous man, not wanting to lose any of the uncommon confidence currently pushing him on. 

Instead he moved to Leonard. The man’s eyes twinkled with humor, intrigue, and though deeply veiled, pride as well. 

Barry leaned forward slightly. “Your question last night? There’s your answer. I don’t use _lackeys_ to find out what others are doing. I watch to see what they don’t want others to know.” He sat back and looked at the men around the table. “And that was only what I observed physically. I listen to the way people speak, the words, the tone in which they’re spoken, the phrases used, the facial cues and body posture. I see and hear everything. I can tell the type of person someone is just by what food they order and what they drink.” He smiled coolly, belying the nervous fire turning in his stomach. “Give me another hour, sitting quietly, like a nervous kid surrounded by the _real deal_ and I’ll know every single one of your secrets whether you want me to know them or not.”

Again he paused but spite had him on a roll so he looked back to Len. “You’re a walking arsenal. I’ve counted three guns, two knives, two extra clips, and _disgustingly_ , a garrote. Paranoid much?” 

He leaned even further toward the man, sneering at the slow grin forming on Len’s face. “Also? Showing up at a charity event with hickeys lining your neck like you got into a fight with a vacuum cleaner shows poor taste. You wore the black dress shirt hoping they would blend the edges of the bruising that peeked over the collar, to hide them. It didn’t work and it was tacky.”

The room fell silent and he could feel the burning eyes on him. If Joe weren’t sitting next to him the weight of them would have had him slinking under the table.

It was the elder Snart who broke the silence. “Your boy has a lot of spunk for such a young buck. Too much.”

Barry looked up at the man and wished he hadn’t. Never in his life had he received a look as chilling as the one being leveled at him. He understood fully now why Joe had been anxious about what he would say to the man. 

He almost missed Joe’s reply, quiet but with a proud lilt. “He sure does but those budding antlers have sharp points.”

The man’s lips twitched into a forced smile with gritted teeth. His unblinking eyes still locked on Barry. “Yeah.”

Barry tore away from the intense stare to the tablecloth, breathing shallowly to quell the queasy feeling in his stomach. Slowly, conversation started back up around him, albeit in a seriously more guarded manner. He felt the eyes leave him one by one until there was only one pair left. He didn’t feel any of the chilling hatred the rest of them had shot at him so he shifted his sight up.

Leonard Snart tossed an easy, honest smile his way before raising his brows and his glass, tipping it toward Barry. He felt his shoulders ease up again and his spine straighten in his chair, the other man’s look of respect and approval had pride filling his chest. 

*

“Well?” Joe asked once they were back in the car.

The rest of their meeting had gone without incident and though Barry was proud that he’d showed spine in front of a group of men that thought he was without one he now realized how stupid it had been. 

He couldn’t read enough of the man to tell but he was almost certain that he had played right into Len’s hand. The challenge he’d been given seemed as if it were _planned_ the more he’d thought on it and he wondered if there was something he’d missed. Logically he knew that it couldn’t have been deliberate bait, more than likely Len had just taken advantage of the opportunity when it presented itself. Still, he couldn’t help the feeling that he’d missed something in the challenge. 

He certainly hadn’t missed the way the man’s calloused hand squeezed his lightly as they all parted ways, or the way his fingers brushed over his palm discreetly as he pulled his hand back, _or_ the wink aimed at him as Len turned outside the restaurant and slid into his car.

And he most certainly hadn’t missed the burning gaze of the elder Snart and the guarded attitudes of the Santini’s. 

Barry had done exactly what he told himself not to. He challenged the lions and now he was _sure_ that he’d spiked on their threat radar.

God he was such a moron. 

He turned to Joe and sighed.

“The Santini’s are shifty. They had a smug air that I caught on to right from the start. There’s something about them that wasn’t sitting well with me. They’re impulsive and greedy. I’m guessing that they would jump at the chance to take over more territory, expand out, and they’re cocky enough to push through even if it means cutting a line right down your operation. I’d put my money on them being the ripple.”

“Hm,” Joe grunted. “I would have called them the low men on the totem pole. They don’t seem like the type to take this kind of chance.”

“Being the low men is exactly why they’re the type to take chances. Like I said, impulsive, greedy, and cocky. No one would suspect them and they know it.”

“Ok. And the Snarts?”

“If you want to make any future dealings do it with Leonard Snart. He’s the backbone _and_ the brain of their operation. Lewis thinks he’s in charge but the man is delusional.” He paused and shifted nervously in his seat before adding. “And incredibly dangerous. I think I may have crossed a line with him.”

Joe nodded looking at him with raised brows. “You sure did. You showed him up and shoved his words right down his throat. Exactly what we told you not to do. What you _should_ have done was smile politely and continued letting them think you were a shaking bag of bones.”

Barry crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled. “I _was_ a shaking bag of bones in case you hadn’t noticed. Besides, that’s easy for you to say. You weren’t getting laughed at by a group of pigs that hold barely a third of your intelligence.” He tilted his nose up and flicked his eyes to Joe. “Combined.”

Joe snorted. “You ain’t lying. I feel like my own IQ drops by the second the longer I’m with them.” 

He reached out and tugged on Barry’s ear, a comforting gesture from his childhood. “Hey.” 

Barry looked over to meet Joe’s soft look. “They were laughing at _me_ , son. You were the punchline but I was the joke. And as much as I wish you hadn’t done it, watching their faces fall as you picked them apart, well, I’ve never felt more proud to call you my son.”

He smiled at the warm look Joe gave him. “Thanks, still wish I’d had a little more self-control.”

“What’s done is done,” he shrugged. “Cat’s out of the bag now but we’ll work with what we can. Now, you were saying?”

Barry cleared his throat and sighed again. “Just from the short time I was with him last night and today I can tell you that Leonard is not included in my unintelligent comment. He’s smart dad. Very. I have a hard time reading him and he’s almost as observant as me. If the shift is from him I’ll have a hard time knowing for sure if it’s coming from his direction until it happens. BUT… Leonard Snart also seems to be content where he’s at. I think he just wants to keep what he’s already got, doesn’t seem interested in acquiring more, just maintaining his position. At least for now.”

Joe nodded, humming, while looking out the window. After a moment he turned back to Barry. “And you’re sure he’s in charge now?”

“No doubt about it. Like I said, Lewis doesn’t know and it’s not official but I saw the way their men looked to Leonard as we left the restaurant. Their loyalty belongs to him but they all seem content to let Lewis think what he wants.” 

“Smart move keeping his father up as a decoy. _I_ wouldn’t have even guessed.” He slapped his hand against Barry’s knee. 

“And that’s why I needed you. Good job Barr.”

“So does that mean that Elegua and I can catch the first flight out? I’d rather not stick around to find out how badly I pissed those guys off.” He gave Joe a hopeful look, his expression morphing into one he’d used often in his childhood to get something he wanted. 

His father chuckled. “Sorry son, you’re gonna have to stick around until this is over. I may need you again.”

Barry let his head fall back to the seat. “Arg. That’s if I don’t get shot first.”

Joe laughed again as he turned to look out the window. Before long the car pulled to a stop in front of Barry’s building. He opened the car door and moved to step out but was stopped by Joe’s hand on his arm. He looked back curiously. 

“You sure you don’t want to come home for the night?”

Barry heard the worry in his voice. He didn’t pretend to not understand what Joe meant and let himself become serious for the moment, all jokes to the side as he shook his head. 

“No. None of them would be stupid enough to try something now that they know we see the sharks in the water, especially so soon. I’ll be fine but I’ll make sure the alarms are set.”

Joe nodded. “Alright. Don’t hesitate to call if you need something. Goodnight Barry. I love you.”

“I won’t. Night. Love you too.”

He ran up to the entrance and punched in the code to get into the building, turning back to wave toward the car as he pulled the door open. As it pulled away he let his shoulders slump and walked to the elevator. 

The evening had thinned him and he wanted nothing more than to slide into his pajamas and lounge in front of the TV with Elegua. Maybe even pretend that the last two nights never happened.

But as he stepped out of the elevator he was drawn up short, blood draining from his face and seriously regretting not taking Joe up on his offer to spend the night in the safe and secure West house. 

Leonard stood leaning against his door casually swiping at his phone and as Barry had stepped from the elevator he drew his gaze up and smirked.

Barry stood frozen to the spot, his heart stuttering in his chest. The sound of the elevator doors sliding closed jolted him into movement. He yelped at the sound and turned, trying to catch it before they did.

Too late, they shut in his face. “Oh fuck,” he whispered and turned back to the criminal blocking the door to his apartment. 

Len’s brows rose. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Barry swallowed. “Possibly my own. I didn’t think you guys would move this quick.” Was that pathetic squeak really his voice?

The other man’s head tilted in question and Barry swallowed again. 

“Aren’t-” his voice croaked, “-aren’t you here to kill me?”

Len’s brows raised even higher but his face remained passive, watching Barry as though he were thinking about it. Then in his baritone drawl he said, “I think I’ll pass this time.”

Barry’s eyes flicked back and forth between Len’s, over his face, the way his body leaned into the door, _desperately_ trying to find the lie, find _anything_ that could give him some warning.

And _fuck_ he couldn’t read this man like the others. He couldn’t tell if the curve of his lips, the slight crinkle near his eyes was genuine or a cover to hide his actual intent, just waiting for Barry to let his guard down. 

_Just keep him talking. There’s always a tell._

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. 

“Then what are you doing here? Wait—no… How did you even get in? Better yet, how do you know where I _live_?”

The other man shrugged. “The front door has a standard run of the mill keypad you can pick up at any hardware store. It wasn’t exactly a challenge. As for your address, a quick call to some _friends_ at CCPD was all it took.”

 _Of course_ he could get through the keypad and _of course_ he had people on the inside. Joe did as well so he should have guessed that the others would too. How else could they keep themselves out of jail? No one was perfect and he was sure that at some point Snart, and the others for that matter, had goofed and left some piece of evidence behind in less than lawful situations. While Barry liked to ignore it most of the time it didn’t change the fact that his father, the people that worked for him, associates and enemies alike, were all criminals, _murderers_ , and they needed someone inside the police department to make that evidence disappear. 

“Why’d you think I was coming to kill you?” Snart asked, breaking his train of thought.

Barry flicked his eyes over Snart again but found nothing but genuine curiosity.

_Unless that’s only what he wants me to see._

He wrapped an arm over his stomach, grabbing his elbow and picking at the fabric of his jacket there, before realizing that his action could be seen and dropping back to his side with a jolt. Too open, too easy to see the insecurity if someone looked and he had no doubt that Snart was watching.

“Dinner. I pretty much shoved your dad’s words down his throat and I’m sure the Santini’s aren’t happy either.”

Snart laughed and Barry blinked at the response, how honest it seemed. He waved his hand dismissively.

“Don’t sweat it. Everyone at that table had to show his balls at one point. You’re presentation was a little different than expected but it was effective and it suited you.”

He pushed off the door, sliding his phone into his pocket, and took a step toward Barry. It took everything he had not to take his own step in the opposite direction.

“While we’re on the topic of your talent show,” the smirk was back and Len tilted his head, “my little lovebites really bother you last night Scarlet?” 

Barry’s eyes dropped to his exposed neck and the blackish bruising along it, purposely on display with the tilt he realized now, and in full view. 

His mouth went dry and he felt his cheeks heat. “I already said, it’s tacky.”

“No one else seemed bothered.”

“No one else probably noticed,” he countered. 

“You did. Just how hard were you watching me?”

“I wasn’t. It was just something I observed. I can’t help what I notice.” It was a lie. Well, half a lie. He really couldn’t help what he’d noticed but he’d _totally_ been watching. 

“And yet you felt the need let me know that you spotted them.” 

Barry’s mouth opened and snapped shut again, unable to come up with a suitable response. Why _had_ he brought it up? 

“So,” Snart began when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to get a reply, “where’d you learn that little trick of yours?”

Barry narrowed his eyes at Snart’s casually asked question. Too casual. The subject of the hickeys had just been a lure to distract him, so that the real question would be unexpected and catch him off guard.

No. Just no.

He’d always been observant but when Harrison Wells, who’d once dabbled in phycology and had knack for understanding body language and facial cues, had taken notice he’d began working with Barry, pushing and guiding him to become better. 

And there was _no way_ he was going to let Snart know _anything_ about his family or his father’s associates. 

But he wasn’t above letting Snart know that he knew the other man had his own talent in that department.

“Where’d you learn _yours_?” he asked quietly. 

Snart’s grin gleamed and his eyes sharpened and Barry saw the man they called Cold in the expression. Like the name implied, Barry felt a chill go down his spine. 

“Smart kid,” Snart hummed with just a touch of admiration. 

Barry closed his eyes at the feeling Snart’s respect filled him with. He didn’t _need_ a criminals respect and he was positive it wasn’t a good thing and he _shouldn’t_ be proud of it. 

Fuck, Leonard Snart was exhausting.

“What do you want Snart?” he asked not caring that it was said with a slight whine, letting some of the tired he felt and the irritation of a relaxing night ruined leak into his tone. He couldn’t even be bothered to care anymore if the man was here to kill him or not. 

“I told you, call me Len.”

Barry’s eyes opened and he looked at Snart with an exasperated raise of his brows letting him know that he was still waiting. 

“We slapped a raincheck on a dance Scarlet. I’ve come to cash in on it.”

Barry blinked. “Dance?”

“Yes, dance. You know, bodies touching, music, I’m not sure where the confusion is.”

“Snart--”

“Len.”

“Whatever,” he snapped. “There’s not a snowballs chance in hell that I’d dance with you. That’s ridiculous.”

Len took another step forward, _too close_ , Barry’s mind supplied, the cocky expression etched onto his face grating at his nerves. “It’s not ridiculous at all. I take IOU’s _very_ seriously Scarlet and I always collect.”

Barry shook his head. He was too tired for this shit. 

“You are _insane_. I’m not doing this with you.”

He moved around the other man to his door, drawing his keys from his pocket. 

“Didn’t realize you were so _afraid_ of me.”

Barry knew it was said to get a reaction out of him but it didn’t stop him from whirling to face the smiling man, his patience having reached its limit. “I am _not_ afraid of you.” He pointed at Len with his key, punctuating his words with it. “It has been an extremely unpleasant day thanks to you and the other pretentious imbeciles that I spent my evening with and I am fucking tired and I just want to get into my quiet apartment and watch some damn TV. Preferably something _without_ violence, crime lords, or any other form of criminal reference.”

“Barry?”

Barry turned at the sound of a door opening and his elderly neighbor’s voice, realizing all at once that his voice had risen during his tirade and every neighbor on his floor could have heard him had they been listening.

“Mrs. Graham!” He spied the wrinkled face peeking out from behind the partially cracked door.

The white haired old lady opened it fully. “Oh Barry. I thought I heard your voice.”

He gave her a cringing smile and stepped between her and Len. “I’m sorry Mrs. Graham. I didn’t realize how loud I was being.”

She smiled back at him and reached up to pat his cheek. “Not at all dear. I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t locked yourself out and needed the spare you gave me. I do it at least twice a week myself. That’s why I always keep my spare under the mat.”

He felt his eyes widen just a fraction and took her hand in his. “Mrs. Graham that’s not something you should go around announcing.”

“Oh I’m not worried about you knowing. You’re such a good boy.” She looked around him at Len. “And I’m sure any friend of yours is just as trustworthy.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” he mumbled under his breath knowing she probably wouldn’t hear it. He had been loud but not loud enough for this particular neighbor to notice from inside her apartment. The hard of hearing woman had probably been spying the exchange from the peephole. 

She was actually a very nice lady and he knew it wasn’t an intentional invasion of privacy. She was just bored so it usually didn’t bother him. This time though it made him was to scream because now Leonard Snart knew where she kept her spare _and_ that she had a key to his apartment as well. 

_Great_.

He heard Len snort behind him.

Louder he told her, “Well don’t worry. I’ve got my key right here.” He held up his keyring to show her and she nodded. 

“Good. Now you come by tomorrow afternoon. I’m making cookies and I’ll put a few away for you alright dear?”

He gave her another smile. “Yes ma’am.” 

“Goodnight Barry,” she said as she stepped back into her apartment. 

“Goodnight Mrs. Graham.”

The door clicked shut and he let his head fall back, sighing. 

“Well wasn’t that just sweet.”

Barry turned at the humorous tone and quickly unlocked his door, grabbing Len by his jacket and jerking him forward. 

“Shut up and come on. She’s probably looking out the peephole and I don’t need her asking more questions than she’s already got forming.”

He shut the door behind them and stopped to rub his face in his hands before moving further into his apartment, flicking the living room lamp on as he passed it, toward the kitchen. He _needed_ a beer.

“Barry. You have a small leopard in your apartment.”

Barry paused, turning to find Len standing straight backed in front of the door looking down at Elegua as the cat looked back up at him, its head cocked, waiting. He couldn’t help a fond laugh at his cat’s quirk.

“Don’t be stupid. His names Elegua and he’s a Savannah Cat.” 

He turned and continued to the kitchen. “You have to give him a treat. They’re in the baggy on the table next to you.”

He paused with his hand on the refrigerator handle once he was out of sight and bumped his forehead against it, leaning into the cool appliance. 

He had Leonard Snart in his apartment. Again, as he’d already done several times in the last few days, he questioned his intelligence. He hadn’t completely ruled out whether the man was here to murder him and he’d just pulled his potential killer right through the door. 

He sighed and pulled the fridge open, grabbing a beer, but paused. 

_Damn it_.

What exactly was proper etiquette when it came to offering the man who was probably there to snuff you out a drink?

Damn manners to _hell_. 

He scowled as he pulled out another bottle. Maybe it might entice the man into _not_ killing him. The refrigerator door closed and little harder than normal and he moved back to the living room just in time to see his cat stand on its back paws and rub it’s head in Len’s hand. 

His scowl deepened. 

What a _traitor_.

*

Len scratched behind the monstrous feline’s ears, its head twisting into his palm before it fell back to all fours and trotted away, his interest in Len only going as far as a treat and rub.

The kid came back into the room looking none too happy at the scene but held out a beer out to him. Len took it with a nod and cracked the cap off the bottle, taking a quick swig and stepping further into the apartment, his eyes scanning Barry’s home. 

It was exactly how Len would have pictured it. Brick walls and wood floors, overflowing bookcases surrounded a wall mounted TV, random stacks of books scattered here and there around the comfortably furnished living room. To the left was a hall that no doubt led to the bedroom and bathroom, to the right, the dining room and kitchen. It was warm, tastefully decorated, and lived-in, everything that Len guessed it would be. 

As he walked around the room taking it in he watched the kid from the corner of his eye. He looked nervous, his arms crossed over his chest, twisting the bottle in his hand anxiously.

Len grinned. 

“So,” he started. “Elegua?”

Barry blinked as if he had been lost in thought. He dropped his arms quickly and popped the cap off his own beer. 

“A deity of Santeria. The keeper of crossroads and doorways.” He took a sip and Len’s eyes followed the movement of his throat as he swallowed. 

Barry moved to lean his hip against the back of the couch, trying and failing to hide his discomfort in the gesture. The smile though, weak as it was, still held a touch of fondness as he spoke about his cat. 

“You have to give him an offering if you want to enter.”

“How’d you end up with him?” He asked, easing Barry out of his nerves with the distraction.

“He’s a rescue. His previous owners hadn’t realized how big his breed got and had to give him up. I had actually gone in looking to adopt a dog but got him in the end.” 

“You travel a lot. What do you do with him while you’re gone?” 

He wasn’t lying when he’d told the kid he kept tabs on everyone from the families and he knew that Barry _did_ travel a lot. Gone for months and only coming home for a couple weeks at a time, never for very long before he was off again to a new destination. He’d done some digging this morning and found that Barry had only been back for a week this time. 

Barry actually looked as if he’d been insulted. “He goes with me of course. I have all the permits I need to travel with him and I don’t go anywhere he can’t.”

Len hummed as he fingered the DVD collection near the TV, his interest in the brunet climbing as he let the apartment tell him a little about the kid. “So you’d give up seeing a new place just because he couldn’t go with you? He’s a cat.”

“He’s my _friend_.”

“He’s a _cat_ ,” he said again with a roll of his eyes. “You got any two legged friends?”

He turned to catch the blush rising in his cheeks before moving to browse a stack of books. 

“I have a couple.”

“A couple. The two from the bar? That’s it?”

“How many friends do _you_ have?”

“Touché.”

His eyes zeroed in on the iPod resting on an end table and he scooped it up placing his beer down in its place. 

“Can you not finger my stuff?”

“I could finger you instead if you’d like,” he said as he began opening playlists. He didn’t have to look up to know Barry’s mouth dropped open and the flush deepened in his cheeks but seeing that blush was something he didn’t want to miss. It was entirely too perfect so he glanced up and through his lashes to catch it before dropping back to the iPod.

“God you are so… so _crude_.”

“And you’re a prude.”

“I’m not a prude!”

“Maybe not,” he conceded as he scanned through a playlist that Barry seemed to listen to more than the others. “Jesus, you’ve got nothing but fuck songs on here Scarlet.”

His playlist was nothing like Len assumed it would be. He expected pop and new age, maybe even some sappy love tunes. Instead he found, rap, R&B, heavy beats, and sensual lyrics.

“I’m a little surprised that you even know them.”

Len glanced up again to find the kid had straightened, eyeing the iPod, stretching his neck to see the playlist Len was browsing from across the room. 

“Why’s that?” He asked, distracted.

“Didn’t peg you for the type to listen to this kind of music.”

“Pigeonholing me, Scarlet?”

“Oh please, any fool could see you weren’t expecting to see a playlist like that on anything I own. You were stereotyping me first.”

“True. I was expecting hipster shit. Whatever you thought about me is probably accurate, though. I like most music.” His climbed higher as he read through the titles. “My God. Every song on here really is about sex. I’m _impressed_ Barry.”

“There’s other playlists on there you know.” It was low and grumbled, making Len smile again.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “but I like this one.”

He settled on a song and as it began filtering through speakers from somewhere behind him he dropped the music player back on the table and moved to slip off his jacket, tossing it on the couch and moving around the piece of furniture, toward Barry.

The kid straightened and stiffened when he stepped up to him.

“What are you doing?” Barry’s eyes were wide and he suddenly looked hared, his voice just as stiff as his body.

“I’d think it was obvious, we’re gonna have that dance.” He flashed him a quick grin. 

“I told you, I’m not dancing with you.”

“Come on Scarlet.” He took Barry’s beer from his rigid fingers and set it down behind them, his other hand sliding up the kids side, making him jump as Len eased the jacket from his shoulders. He tossed it on top of his own, his other hand still pressed to the kid’s waist, feeling the heat of his body from under his thin shirt.

“It’s just a dance. Nothing nefarious.” He pushed so that Barry’s body pressed against his own, his body still taut but allowing the manipulation. 

A little gasp parted the kids lips at the contact and Len couldn’t help the shudder that moved through him in agreement. Barry’s body against his was fantastic. Slim, lithe, warm, and slotting to fit his perfectly, like he was made to mold against Len’s. He moved an arm around the trim waist and rested the other hand on his slack covered hip. Barry looked up at him with a deer in headlights look and Len couldn’t even muster a smirk at him, entirely too enthralled at the feel of Barry’s frame against his. 

He shouldn’t be that excited, dancing had never pulled at him before and he’d had countless men pressed to him but Barry was different. A forbidden fruit yes, the classic physical twink material he was into, sure, but Barry was so uncharacteristically down to earth, intelligent, honest, without the schmoozing and coy, _fake_ seduction tactics that most men threw at him. It really _was_ refreshing. 

“Come on,” he repeated coaxingly as he began moving his hips slowly, guiding Barry’s to do the same.

He was actually a little surprised when, hesitantly, the kid began moving on his own without much persuasion. 

He squeezed lightly where his hands still pressed to Barry.

“See? Not so bad.” 

Barry swallowed thickly. “It’s better than getting killed I suppose.” It was whispered and Len got the impression that he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. 

He couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped him. “Trust me Scarlet, killing you is far from my mind.”

Barry nodded, his expression distracted as he dropped his owlish eyes to Lens chest. Len moved closer still, lining their hips up more fully, angling them so he could feel every sway of the brunets groin against his. He watched Barry’s eyes glaze over, going distant as his mind drifted. 

Len swept his hand up from Barry’s hip, over his back, to cup the back of his neck, his fingers brushing through the hair at his nape.

The brunet’s pretty green eyes closed and he exhaled slowly and when those long fingers began to move up his arms, light and timid, Len knew he had him. 

He knew the moment Barry let go, his body relaxing, breath deepening, and hips moving against his with more confidence. Barry let himself fall into the music and Len, not even noticing that the song had ended and another, equally as low, had started. 

And this was what he’d been waiting to see, why’d he’d shown up on Barry’s doorstep. Once you got past the outer layer, Barry was the essence of sensuality. He’d seen it the night at the bar, caught it in the blushes, and confirmed it just then as he grinded against Len, hips pressing into the leg Len had snuck between his thighs, hot and lost in his senses. 

The hands that had curled around his back moved, tickling up to his shoulders, over his neck, nails scraping lightly against the stubble at his jaw and Len didn’t _dare_ move in case the spell was broken. The hooded lids opened and fingers brushed his lips, the tips of them grazing his bottom lip as dilated eyes flicked between his own and then down to his mouth. 

The slow beat of the music thrummed over them coupled with the sound of their mingling breath, so close, _so close_ , to the others lips. His own mouth parted but he made no move forward, letting Barry make the first move and he was rewarded when he leaned up, closing the space between them. 

The kiss was hot, slow, like filthy, unhurried sex and he opened his lips further, inviting the kid in, moaning when Barry accepted. His tongue traced along his and it took everything Len had not to take over, to push the kiss deeper and harder, but instead let the kid explore his mouth with his soft, slow movements.

But when one leg curled around his, grinding his growing erection into Lens thigh with a low moan, he couldn’t hold back. His hands grasped the pert backside, cupping the cheeks in each hand, squeezing harshly before he lifted. Instinctively long legs wrapped around his waist, arms shifted to drape around his neck and head. 

Barry moaned again at the new angle that gave him more access to Len’s mouth and Len pushed back against those lips that were now above him, giving Barry back as much as he got as he walked them to the dining table behind him. 

He eased the kid down, leaning over him, mouth still moving over the softer one beneath his and Lens hands slid up and then down the back of his pants, grasping the bare, plump flesh, pushing Barry’s hips up to grind against him. 

Barry’s mouth tore from his at the contact.

“Oh God,” he groaned, low and abandoned.

And fuck it was the hottest thing Len had heard in far too long. 

Barry’s shoe covered feet dug into the back of his thighs as he lifted without assistance to meet the rutting thrusts, harder and faster, and Len felt Barry’s cock give a lurch in excitement against his own. He yanked one hand out and moved to the buttons on Barry’s pants, opening them with deft ease and tugging them down just far enough for him to slip inside to grasp the hard length. 

The brunet jerked at his touch, crying out and pumping up into his fist, so goddamn lost in the sensations and Len could barely contain himself against the movement, against the _sight_.

He pulled back, trailing open mouth kisses up to his ear. 

“You are beyond fucking words, Scarlet.”

Hands reached around him, grabbing his own ass, pushing at them insistently, asking for more without words, and he dipped his head, nipping along the long column of Barry’s pale neck. 

“I’m going to make you scream this time, shake the fucking walls with it.”

He was so caught up in the taste of Barry’s skin, the velvety hardness in his hand, his thoughts of folding the pretty man in two and making good on his promise that he didn’t even notice as the body under him had stiffened and hands fell away, legs untangling from his hips. 

But cold water doused him like freezing rain at one broken, muttered word.

“Stop.”

Len barely heard the word. _Barely_. 

He closed his eyes and panted against the neck his face was buried in, letting the word wash over him before he pulled back to look down at the kid. 

“What is it?” He watched a shiver spread over Barry’s frame at the gravel in his voice. 

The green eyes shut and his head fell back. “I can’t… We can’t do this.”

Disappointment hit him hard as he took in the sight of Barry. Shirt riding up to expose his flat stomach and belly button, pants open, legs spread wide, lips wet and swollen, pupils blown wide. Barry was fucking _wrecked_ and Len gave a groan at the unfairness. He was a goddamn masterpiece and Len was so hard it hurt, and the kid had told him to _stop_.

“Why? We’re both consenting adults here Barry,” he pointed out a little exasperated but still pulled his hands from Barry’s pants. He may be pushy but he had boundaries even if he really didn’t like staying within them at the moment. 

“Because my dad will kill you, yours already wants to kill me I’m sure but this would be the topper. We’d both be dead, me _doubly dead_ , and an orgasm just doesn’t seem worth it.”

“Depends on the orgasm,” he said, the disappointment making his tone snappish instead of the persuasive note he’s been going for. 

He wanted to push into the erection Barry still sported but saw the quick flash of apprehension in his eyes making him lean back further. Len realized that the kid wasn’t objecting to _him_ just the repercussions of their families. 

He sighed, tapping his fingers against the table next to Barry’s head before nodding.

“Ok,” he whispered. “That’s ok Scarlet.” His lips thinned and he leaned down and placed a lingering kiss to the side of his neck, inhaling Barry’s light cologne before pulling away.

If it had been an aversion to him he would have walked out without looking back but that wasn’t the case. No, it was fear of what others would do if they found out. It was a little endearing if he was going to be honest. The kid had mentioned _Len_ being killed if his pops found out like he actually believed Len would let someone like West put a hit out on him. It was sweet but beyond naïve. The part about Lewis dropping Barry was probably true though, but Len could take care of that easily.

Yeah, this he could work with. He could peel back these layers too, show Barry he had nothing to worry about. Hell, it might even be fun. He hadn’t pursued anyone in years. It was too easy for him to get laid, men fell at his feet left and right when he showed the slightest interest. He was _good_ at seduction and didn’t get to play with it very often. A little wooing, a little wining and dining, the chase might turn out to be exciting. 

And right now the best tactic was to back away, leave and let the kid think on it while he was still hard and the feel of Len’s hands were still fresh on his body. Let him mull it over and allow the desire to have what he didn't think he could have grow. 

Len pulled up and sighed again at the sight of Barry spread out before him. It was still a damn shame walking away from this though. 

He smiled softly and straightened Barry’s shirt, pulling it down to cover the tempting flesh and doing up the pants he’d undone before grabbing Barry’s hands and pulling him to stand.

The music still played quietly and Len cupped Barry’s flushed cheek, leaning in to peck at the full lips. 

“I understand,” he muttered against them.

Barry looked up at him nervously, as if he hadn’t expected it to be that easy and Len reached into Barry’s pocket, pulling out the phone he’d felt there. He dialed his number and listened for the buzz of his own phone still in this jacket in the couch before hanging up and sliding Barry’s back into the other man’s pocket. 

He smiled again. “Now you have my number.” And he had Barry’s. “Call me anytime you’d like, Scarlet.”

He leaned in again, brushing his mouth over Barry’s one last time, not missing the subtle slant Barry made into him as he moved back, following Len’s lips as they parted.

“I’m gonna get out of your hair. Thanks for the beer,” Len tossed a wink at him, “and the dance.”

He stepped away, hiding the sudden unpleasant chill he felt at the separation from Barry warm inviting body and moved to grab his jacket, watching as Barry still stood motionless in front of the table looking beyond confused, which was perfect Len thought. Hot and bothered and kept on his toes. 

“Night, kid,” he said as he moved to the door.

As it closed he heard Barry’s puzzled voice reach him. “Yeah. Yeah, goodnight.”

He walked slowly to the elevator, grimacing as his cock strained harshly against his jeans. He pushed the button and closed his eyes. 

“Down boy,” he told his aching erection, “it’s gonna be a lonely night.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead!!!
> 
> I did write this chapter like I was dead though. I'm exhausted! I just needed to write something. It seriously eases stress.
> 
> So, I started a new chapter in real life too. Decided to go back to school and follow a career path that actually interests me. That means updates will be less often. But I promise I'm still writing! 
> 
> As always, mind the tags and warnings as they change with the addition of chapters.

Chapter 4

“Barry! It’s so good to see you! Why didn’t you tell us you were in town sooner?” 

Barry let out an oomph has a bundle of Caitlin threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. The tension he’d been holding on to since he landed in Central City lifted just a bit as her arms tightened around him. He lifted his eyes to Cisco’s familiar smiling face and for the first time in a long time he was happy to be home.

“I wanted to but I was a little monopolized by Joe. I couldn’t get away,” he said as she pulled away. 

He was a little ashamed at the lie. Obviously, it wasn’t a total lie. He really had been busy with Joe but with everything that had been going on he hadn’t even thought about his friends until Snart had mentioned them two nights ago. When he’d texted Cisco the other man had been quick to schedule a coffee filled reunion at Jitters, one of their favorite hangouts since their college days. 

“Sit down, we ordered for you while we were waiting.” She nodded her head toward Cisco who pushed a mug toward him as he slid into the empty chair. 

He hadn’t realized how much he’s missed this place. He looked around the familiar bustling shop and felt nostalgia hit him. How many times had the three of them met here just to get away from campus life? To vent and relax between exams? This is where the three of them had connected with each other, spilling secrets and gossiping, free to act like themselves instead of what the world expected them to be. 

“How long are you going to be home this time?” Cisco asked, interrupting his thoughts. 

Barry shrugged, his finger tracing the edge of his mug. “I don’t know. I think I’m gonna stick around for a while though.” It wasn’t like he had much choice in the matter anyway.

Caitlin put on a look of sympathy. “Homesick?”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I suppose I was.” And _that_ wasn’t a lie. He really had been homesick. Though he usually didn’t realize he’d been homesick until he actually got back home, too caught up in the adventure of exploring someplace new to notice. 

But he was over it now, ready to hop on a plane and disappear again. Even the joy he felt while he was with them couldn’t suppress the need to get away. They didn’t need to know that though, didn’t need to know he was forced to come home and that he was being forced to _stay_ home. 

“I wish I could have taken the time off and taken you up on your invitation. How awesome would it have been for the three of us to run around Cairo together?” Caitlin’s face took on a wistful look as she rested her chin in her palm.

Cisco nodded and groaned. “It would have been _epic_. I’m so jealous.” He leaned forward on his elbows. “So how was it?”

“Oh my God,” he exclaimed as he sat back with a wistful smile. “It was _amazing_. The pyramids? The mosque? They were everything I thought they’d be and more. And I didn’t even get to see half of it. We _need_ to plan a trip, all three of us, and go. There’s _so_ much I want you guys to see.”

“Then let’s do it.” Caitlin laughed. “Let’s make it a plan. Next year maybe? If we put in for it now we could probably swing it.” 

“Done,” Cisco said as he slapped his hand on the table. “I’ll see when I can get the time off tomorrow and get with you to match up.”

Barry laughed. He knew it wouldn’t happen. It never did. They worked too much and even though he knew they probably had tons of vacation time, they wouldn’t take the hours until they were forced to. But that was ok. He understood. Their careers were their passion just like traveling was his. Honestly he enjoyed the little plans they made even if they never saw it through to completion. He _loved_ his friends. They were always the pill he needed to relax, his time with them always carefree and therapeutic.

“Any plans while you’re home Barry?” Caitlin asked. 

He sighed. “No not really. Well kinda. Joe wants me to spend time with him, go up and visit Wally. Iris is supposed to be back in town in a few days I think. Did you guys hear she got an award for her last piece? She flew out to California for some literary award ceremony. I wish I’d been able to make it out there in time.”

They both nodded. “I read about it in the paper. She deserves it. She’s worked hard to get where she is,” Cisco commented. 

“So, what have you guys been up to? How’s work? Anyone new in your lives?”

Caitlin let out a ringing laugh. “My life is the same as it always is- boring. And work keeps me as _busy_ as it always does.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time to meet someone new let alone form a romantic relationship.”

“Ditto to everything expect the relationship part. There’s always time for a little love… _unfortunately_ I’m ridin’ high and dry. No one appreciates my exotic good looks and high-class nerd jokes.” He flipped his shoulder length hair over his shoulder with a teasing, put-out sigh that made Barry laugh. 

“They just don’t know what they’re missing out on. Your nerd jokes are some of the best I’ve ever heard,” he said with a playful smile. 

Caitlin snorted, “Yeah cause you can understand them.” She jerked her head toward Cisco. “The girls he goes for probably have smaller IQ’s than tadpoles.”

“Hey now,” Cisco mock-glared. “It’s hard to find a girl with brains _and_ killer good looks. One that isn’t my best friend,” he added as Caitlin’s eyes began to narrow. “And if I have to choose between the two, I’m going with killer good looks. If I want an intelligent conversation I’ll come to you guys.”

“Which is why you’ll probably be alone forever,” she said with a roll of her eyes before turning back to Barry. “What about you Barry? Anyone special in your life right now?” 

Barry snorted at Caitlin’s question. “No.” 

Abruptly Len flashed through his thoughts and a blush rose in his cheeks. Cisco narrowed his eyes at the red covering his face and pointed an accusing finger at him. 

“Lies.” He leaned forward. “Who is she? Or _he_?” He asked with a tilt of his head. “Anyone we know?”  
“No, I mean, he’s not really anyone _special_ , special. Just someone I’ve ran into a few times. And there’s really nothing going on.”

“Aww, Barry’s got a crush.” He waggled his eyebrows and grinned at Barry. “Is he hot?”

“Cisco, stop teasing him,” Caitlin scolded. 

“No way!” He shot in her direction. “I want _details_.” He turned back to Barry. “So is he?”

“No—I mean, well, yeah but— _oh my god_ ,” he covered his face with his hands, ignoring Cisco’s open chuckle and Caitlin’s more modest giggle. “You guys suck,” he grumbled into his palms. 

He uncovered his face and sighed. “Seriously. There’s nothing going on. He’s not exactly someone I can bring home to Joe.”

“What’s his name?” Caitlin pushed. 

He hesitated, not really sure if it was a good idea to tell them. He trusted them not to say anything to anyone but he knew they wouldn’t approve. Still… he needed to talk to _someone_ about it, he just wasn’t sure they’d actually let him talk once he fessed up. They hadn’t been happy to find out just who the man at the bar had been. They’d spent months going on about the night he’d narrowly avoided being killed… even though he was about ninety-eight percent sure that Snart wouldn’t have killed him that night.

But he really wanted to get it off his chest.

He pushed his hands back up and peeked through his fingers, preparing himself for the backlash. “Leonard Snart,” he mumbled with a grimace. 

As expected, Caitlin’s easy smile dropped. “Did you say Leonard Snart?”

“No dude,” Cisco said deadpanned. “No, you turn and run away as fast as your skinny legs can carry you because _that_ is a bag of cats that you don’t want to open.”

He groaned and dropped his hands from his face. “I know, ok, I _know_. Look, I can’t go into detail about it but I’ve had to go to meetings with Joe lately-- the reason I’m back. And he’s been there and he’s the same as he was the night at the bar, and then-- _fuck_ \--he showed up at my apartment the other night after one of them and--”

“Wait,” Caitlin cut in, “he showed up at your apartment? What happened?”

He felt his face heat even more and this time it was Cisco who groaned.

“Tell me you didn’t man, not again.”

“No!” he said quickly, but then, “Well… I mean, I stopped him before anything really happened.”

This time they _both_ groaned and Barry wanted to bang his head on the table. This was not supposed to be a _who can groan the most_ contest and yet they were all neck and neck in that department. 

“Barry. This is not a good idea. You said yourself that you don’t want to follow the same path as your family, that you don’t want to be involved with any of it and here you are telling us that you’re going to _meetings_ with your dad and spending time with Leonard Snart?”

“I _know_ Caitlin. I really do. But my dad needs me right now. My _family_ needs me. I really can’t go into detail but I promise it’s only a temporary thing.”

“And is Cold a temporary thing too?”

Barry looked over to Cisco. “There’s nothing there to even _be_ temporary Cisco. It was just a one-time thing that I got caught up in. I swear.”

Caitlin reached out and grasped his fingers. “Barry, promise me something.”

He nodded and she continued. “Whatever it is that your dad has you helping him with, when it’s done, the _second_ it’s over, you _promise_ me that you’ll head straight to the airport and take the first flight you can get to _anywhere_ that’s far from here. Please don’t let yourself get caught up in your fathers business _or_ Snart.”

He looked into her pleading eyes and then over to Cisco’s worried ones and nodded. “Of course, Cait,” he said softly. “I promise.”

*

Barry stared at the page in his book, the same one he’d been on for the last ten minutes, lost in thought. 

His mind swirled like a kaleidoscope, everything that had happened in the last week jumbling together. From Joe telling him he needed him, to the charity event, to the _mafia meeting_ , Snart in his apartment, and his talk with Caitlin and Cisco. 

It was all mixing together with thoughts from his past, his night in the bar and every single one of his attempted and failed relationships that had never made it past heavy petting. 

Everything about the whole situation was just so fucked up and _why_ couldn’t he get Snart out of his head?

He’d promised himself he wouldn’t think about it, promised his friends that he’d step away in the area’s that he could but Snart just kept resurfacing in his mind. 

He was confused. He knew he was but that didn’t stop him from seeing Snart with new eyes. The guy was a dick, sure, but other than a few rude comments he had actually been _nice_ to him. Nothing like the rest of the world said he was like.

Yeah, he’d totally pressured Barry into a dance but it had only been a _dance_ after all. It wasn’t exactly something he would consider to be harmful. He liked dancing anyway and it really hadn’t been that bad dancing with Snart. It had been good. Len’s body had felt _fantastic_ , all muscle and pure male, his strong back had rippled under his fingers. Never once did he feel threatened, like the Cold that the world saw had been tucked away and all that was presented to Barry was ordinary Leonard Snart. He’d felt safe, even when he knew he shouldn’t, even when he’d brushed against the gun tucked into the waist of his pants. The feel of the cool metal against his fingers hadn’t formed distaste like it usually did, instead it only intensified the safe feeling, like he was protected there in Snart’s arms. 

And what had come after Barry had been the one to instigate. _He_ had kissed Len. He hadn’t pressured or pushed Barry, he’d just let Barry take his time and when Barry had finally come to his senses and asked for it to stop, it _did_.

There had been no anger, no mean words, nothing like others had said in the past. Snart had been… sweet about it. He’d pulled back, helped Barry straighten up and told him it was ok. 

He’d given him his number and then he’d _kissed_ him…

Like he actually wanted to see him again and that had certainly never happened before. The few relationships he’d had in the past ended abruptly after they found out that Barry couldn’t seem to go all the way. 

This wasn’t a relationship though. There was no way it could be. Surely the other man understood that right? So why had he been so good about it all? Was it an act? If so what was the purpose of it? He had nothing to lose so he didn’t need to play nice. 

Barry groaned and dropped his head back to the arm of the couch. There were too many questions, too many variables, and Barry didn’t know what to think. 

Maybe the man really was just a good person when it came to his bed partners. Not that Barry was, or ever would be, Leonard Snart’s bed partner… but still. Obviously he wasn’t a good person generally but Barry supposed he could be good to the people he slept with. 

Barry tossed the book to the side and leaned over to grab his phone from the coffee table. He opened his call log and stared at the number that had been typed in. 

He felt like he should let the man know he was grateful for it, that the way he handled Barry’s denial was appreciated. But he’d promised his friends that he’d stay away from Snart when he could. 

He really shouldn’t. He’d promised and really, _surely_ a man like Leonard Snart wouldn’t see the value in something as small as a thank you. 

He chewed on his thumbnail, brows drawn tight as his eyes skimmed over the number.

But he’d told Barry to contact him and Barry’s moral compass compelled him to say thank you. It drove him forward because _everyone_ deserved a thank you when it was due. What harm would it cause? Even if Snart didn’t appreciate the gesture it would still make Barry feel better. 

He tapped on the number and opened a new text. A quick message, that’s all, just to thank him… He could at least do that.

*

Len reached into his pocket as his phone buzzed and carefully laid down the gun he’d been meticulously taking apart and cleaning. His eyes briefly lifted to Mick and the man he crouched over, the glowing red tire iron dropping to press into the flesh of the mans bare stomach, adding to the smell of burnt flesh that filled the room. He only moaned, they’d been at it for a while now and the condemned man was too weak now to let out anything other than the whimpering sound. Len tisked. It was probably time to wrap things up.

If someone were to go by the rumors, most people would think that this was what he filled his days with. Sure, this kind of thing never bothered him. He had zero remorse for the son-of-a-bitch that currently occupied Mick and he’d never in his life thought twice about putting a bullet in someone.

But it was rarer than one would think. Most of the time all he did was go over the books, manage the family establishments and other family trades, mundane things that Lewis had stopped doing years ago. He didn’t need to do this kind of thing much anymore. Most of the rumors came from his teenage years, when he’d been making a name for himself and they’d stuck. To this day his moniker was something that people said carefully, with respect, with _fear_ and if anyone doubted that he was living up to the nickname still, it didn’t take too much of a show to prove them wrong. 

Every now and then you got one of these guys though. Someone who thought they could outsmart him, who thought he wouldn’t notice money and other goods missing, someone that went behind his back and purposely deceived him, their heads entirely too big for their necks, or had otherwise done something that in Len’s book was unacceptable and Len didn’t give second chances. _Ever_. 

He dropped his gaze to his phone and smirked and the name. He had expected it to take at _least_ a week, maybe even two. Not four days. 

_Scarlet_ : **Hey I just wanted to say thank you for the other night. I really appreciate it.**

Len frowned and typed a reply, half aware that the moans in the room were fading even more. 

_Len_ : **You’re very welcome Scarlet but what exactly am I being thanked for?**

_Scarlet_ : **The way you handled it when I asked you to stop. It was decent of you. So thanks.**

_Len_ : **That’s not usually something one is thanked for.**

He waited for a reply and frowned when it didn’t come. 

That wouldn’t do. 

The goal was to peel back the layers, build some trust, and that wouldn’t happen if he couldn’t get the kid to talk to him. 

_Len_ : **Gonna tell me what’s up with the thanks? Think I’d get all angry and throw a hissy?**

_Scarlet_ : **Yes.**

_Len_ : **Why would you think that?**

_Scarlet_ : **It’s been my experience that anger is the typical response when someone says no that far in. And you’re not exactly known for being nice.**

_Len_ : **Sounds like you have poor taste in partners.**

_Scarlet_ : **Haven’t people gotten mad at you for saying no before?**

_Len_ : **I don’t say no. I just tell them to get lost and couldn’t care less if they’re pissed. But when they do throw a fit my general attitude is good riddance and I certainly don’t feel compelled to THANK someone who doesn’t.**

_Scarlet_ : **Oh.**

A thought crept to his mind. It would explain the gratitude for something that should have been nothing. He scowled at the uncomfortable feeling that came with the thought but he knew he had to ask. The thought wouldn’t go away if he didn’t, even if he _really_ didn’t want to. 

_Len_ : **Barry, what’s all this about? Has anyone ever done more than get angry?**

He cringed as he sent the message and thankfully he only had to wait a few seconds for a reply.

_Scarlet_ : **OMG. No! Jesus why would ask something like that?**

Len closed his eyes briefly and let out a sigh of relief because he may want Barry but he wouldn’t screw around with someone that had gone through something like that. He wasn’t a therapist and he had no desire to be one. 

Though for the kid he probably would have made sure the person that hurt him died slowly and painfully before he cut ties with the kid. 

_Len_ : **Just checking. You never know Scarlet. Besides I know how difficult it is to walk away from you.**

_Len_ : **Next time someone gets pissed off cause you don’t wanna fuck just break their arm. Or gut em. I prefer that one.**

_Scarlet_ : **I think that’s more your thing. Not mine.**

_Len_ : **You should make it your thing too. Don’t let a few losers make you feel bad for saying no. Got it?**

_Scarlet_ : **Yeah, sure Len.**

_Len_ : **Look at that. You said my name. Now call me so I can hear you say it.**

_Scarlet_ : **Lol. I don’t think so.**

_Len_ : **You’re killing me Scarlet.**

_Scarlet_ : **So this has been more awkward than I anticipated. I’m gonna go and let you get back to whatever you’re doing.**

_Len_ : **I’m never too busy for you. And don’t worry about it. I was just confused at first. You’re a real sweetheart kid. I’ll catch you later.**

“He’s done Lenny.” 

Len looked up at Mick as he shoved his phone back into his pocket and stood. Mick always had impeccable timing. 

“He dead?” He asked as he made his way over.

Mick shrugged as Len came to stand next to him. “He can be.”

He hummed and crouched down next to the limp body and watched the barely visible shallow breaths in the heavily burnt chest. 

He reached out and gave the man’s cheek a few slaps and nodded as he moaned with a low gurgle.

“I’m feeling a little generous all of a sudden Mick,” he said as he stood and walked back to the table. “Have him dumped but if he pulls through make sure he’s watched so he doesn’t run. I’m gonna want my money back.”

Mick grunted in response and moved to the door, opening it and whistling out to the men waiting outside. 

As his friend gave them instructions and watched as they moved the tortured man from the room Len sat down and finished putting his gun back in order. 

“You hear another one of West’s shops took a hit?”

Len didn’t glance up as Mick pulled back a chair and picked up the beer he’d set aside earlier before their guest had arrived. 

“The one on First? Yeah.”

“No,” Mick responded and Len did glance up then. “Happened last night. The one on Claymont.”

Len frowned but dropped his eyes back to his task and continued to put the final pieces of his gun back together. 

“Think that’s what the kid is here for?”

“I have no doubt in my mind. Allen has a sharp eye for what others don’t want him to see. He’s good and West is using that.” Len said quietly with a nod.

“And he thinks it’s someone from one of the families?”

Len nodded and held up his gun, checking it over before settling it at his side in the holster that hooked over his shoulder. 

“Has to be the Santini’s. It ain’t coming from this family so that only leaves them,” Len murmured. 

Mick shrugged and downed the last of his beer. “Could be someone inside the West clan.”

“Yeah,” he conceded, “it could be but if that were the case Barry would have flushed them out by now.” 

Mick grunted and shrugged. “If you say so. You fuckin’ the kid yet?” He asked bluntly. 

“A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

The pyro snorted. “You ain’t a gentleman so spill.”

He let his lips tilt into a small smile. “Turns out Barry’s a little harder to lay while he’s sober. But I’m not one to give up so easily. He just needs a little sweet-talking.”

Micks nose scrunched in distaste. “So… what?” He said with a frown. “You sendin’ him flowers and teddy bears and shit?”

Len cocked his head and looked at his friend thoughtfully. “You know what? That’s not a bad idea Mick.”

*

Barry’s mouth hung open as he watched flower arrangement after flower arrangement being carried into his apartment. 

He’d been surprised when he opened the door and was greeted with a mixture of peonies and lilies but when the man asked him where he wanted the others Barry had looked at him with confusion.

“Others?” he’d asked. 

The man had smiled. “Others.” He said with a nod. “You have one hell of an admirer.”

And now there Barry stood as the last arrangement was placed on the floor next to his couch because there was literally no other place for them to go, nearly every available surface was covered with flowers. 

The delivery man handed him a card and wished him a good day with a wink as he left and all Barry could do was nod dumbfounded as he clutched the card in his hand. 

_Who the hell would do this?_

For a split second he thought it might be a prank pulled by Cisco but as quick as the thought came Barry dismissed it. Cisco’s had a good job and an above average salary that provided him a comfortable life but _this_ would have been pricey. Probably more than he could afford to throw away on a prank. 

It could have been Iris but she was more the type to send him exploding glitter or confetti rather than an insane amount of flowers that he had no idea what to do with. 

He frowned and tore open the envelope. Inside was a simple card was a handwritten note in a thin, neat scrawl. 

_Have dinner at my place?  
\--Len_

And didn’t that send a warm jolt straight to his stomach? 

Barry’s frown deepened. 

This…this was a little too much. Seriously romantic… but still too much. 

If it had been anyone else, someone other than Leonard Snart he’d no doubt be a gushing, swooning mess but it was _Leonard Snart_. 

Still… in the privacy of his apartment he let a small smile slip through. Nobody had done something like this for him before. 

Again, he wished the circumstances were different, that they were two completely different people because he’d like nothing more than to take the man up on his offer. 

But they weren’t and he couldn’t. It didn’t matter if Snart was sweeter than he’d originally thought or that he sent hot tingles down Barry’s spine. He was still Lewis Snart’s son and if Joe ever found out that Barry was communicating with him outside of scheduled meetings, his head would explode. 

He had no doubt that Joe would put him on lock down and the thought of being forced under his thumb, his every move watched, his freedom taken away… it literally made him feel sick. 

He knew Joe would do it out of love, motivated by a worry only a parent felt, but Barry also knew he’d wither away if he were forced to stay in one place and if it were found out that Barry was interacting with Snart, Barry wouldn’t be able to convince his father that he was safe, that he could make rational choices. 

Barry sighed and tossed the card on the side table near the door. 

As he grabbed his phone he noted absently that he’d have to figure out what to do with the bouquets taking over his apartment as he spied Elegua prowling curiously around the apartment, sniffing, and even batting at some of the flowers, as he investigated the new objects in the house. 

He had a feeling they’d end up being the cats new toys, causing Barry to envision a mess he’d rather not deal with. Or the curious cat would try a few as a snack and he was sure some of them were probably toxic. 

He sat heavily on the couch and opened his texts. 

_Barry_ : **Thank you for the flowers but I’ll have to decline your invitation for dinner.**

Barry pressed send and began looking up local hospitals. The flowers were too pretty to just throw away and maybe they’d bring a little joy to someone who needed it but his search was interrupted by Snart’s reply. 

_Cold_ : **It can’t be because I picked the wrong flowers. I sent every type the florist had.**

Barry snorted out a laugh. 

_Barry_ : **Yes. I can see that.**

_Barry_ : **No, the flowers are beautiful. I just can’t have dinner with you.**

_Cold_ : **Don’t tell me you’re busy. I never gave you a day or time.**

_Barry_ : **You know why.**

_Cold_ : **Scared Scarlet?**

_Barry_ : **To be honest, yes. And I gave you several good reasons why.**

_Cold_ : **Good to know it’s not an objection to me.**

_Barry_ : **I didn’t say that.**

_Cold_ : **You didn’t have to. I guess I’ll just have to step up my game. How about edible bouquets? You know the old saying. The way to a man’s heart is through food.**

_Barry_ : **Do not send me edible bouquets.**

_Cold_ : **Jewelry? A few sparkly rocks would look real good paired with your pretty eyes.**

A blush burned his cheeks at Snart’s words. Jesus, he was just a little pathetic. A few compliments and he was ready to burst into flames. It wasn’t as if others hadn’t paid him compliments, it was just nicer coming from Snart for some reason. He scowled as he replied. 

_Barry_ : **Absolutely not. I don’t wear jewelry.**

_Cold_ : **That’s too bad. I was envisioning a glittery snowflake hanging from that long neck of yours.**

_Barry_ : **A snowflake? Really Snart?**

_Cold_ : **An icicle then?**

_Barry_ : **No.**

_Cold_ : **Come on sweetheart. Just dinner. No funny stuff. Food and conversation only, I promise.**

Fuck it was so tempting. It would be so easy to just give in and forget that they were supposed to be enemies.

But he couldn’t forget because the consequences would be too hefty. The uproar it would cause between the families would be too much to let slide and Barry knew he’d be the first target. 

His phone buzzed and Snart’s next message made Barry wonder if the man could read his mind.

_Cold_ : **You know I wouldn’t let Lewis do anything to you Barry.**

_Barry_ : **Maybe not but that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t control MY fathers actions.**

_Cold_ : **I can handle myself.**

_Barry_ : **I don’t doubt it but when that happens you’ll have to retaliate. I know how the game works Snart. And I love Joe.**

_Cold_ : **You realize this is why I said my place and not at a restaurant right?**

Snart didn’t even try to deny it and for some reason the fact that he didn’t try to had a small touch of respect for the man forming inside him. He knew it should scare him, he knew what kind of man he was talking to, but other than Joe and Harrison, people usually sugar coated things for him as if he couldn’t handle the reality of things. And here was Snart, not even attempting to argue that he would retaliate if Joe tried to take him out. 

_Barry_ : **And you realize I could still be seen going into your place right?**

_Cold_ : **Your pops got eyes on you?**

_Barry_ : **No but that doesn’t mean someone else won’t see and get the word back to him.**

_Cold_ : **I own this building Scarlet. You think I wouldn’t make sure there was an alternate entrance? It’s discrete and secure and no one has access to it but me. You can drive right in if I give you the code.**

Barry bit his lip, his resolve wavering. It would just be dinner. There was nothing wrong with having dinner with someone. And if it were true, if Snart could make sure he wasn’t seen coming or going, no one would have to know. 

_Barry_ : **You’d be willing to give me the code to your private entrance? Isn’t that a little risky?**

_Cold_ : **You gonna try to kill me? Hell, you’re cute enough I might just let you.**

Barry laughed despite the flush racing to his face. 

_Cold_ : **Look, I’m not threatening you or anything but if you don’t agree to dinner I’m just gonna have to send you more gifts until you give in. You might as well save me, and my wallet, the trouble and just agree now.**

Barry’s laughed deepened and he tilted his head back on the couch. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Ok, so he could probably get away with dinner and he _really_ wanted to go. There was just something about Snart that pulled him in. Obviously it couldn’t go anywhere. There was too much risk involved with that but… why couldn’t he just enjoy some new company? It’s not like he could leave Central City at the moment and typically that was one of the best parts of traveling; meeting new people, conversation, mixing of cultures. 

And since he couldn’t go do that at the moment maybe he could quell the desire to by hanging out with Snart. Just until he was given the green light to leave again. He could do that. 

His phone dinged at him and he bit his lip at Snart’s message.

_Cold_ : **Well?**

The same thought came to him like it did years ago that night at the bar. _Well why not?_

He nodded his head silently and sent a quick response. 

_Barry_ : **Ok. When?**


End file.
